


Sojourn

by vilnolin



Series: Tales of the Winchester Clan [2]
Category: Dark Angel, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, F/M, JARtHtG
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-28 23:47:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 37,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vilnolin/pseuds/vilnolin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paranormal, Preternatural and Plain Weird.<br/>Sam and Dean are trying to keep their extended family under the radar and off the map.  But infighting between the transgenics and demonborne is threatening to rip the Clan apart from the inside...and who knows who is behind it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  Warning: Crossover, Dark Angel (AU), confusion, body swapping, sex, drug use, craziness, batman!moves, character death, au, retroactive continuity and lots of other insane stuff. but no zombies.  
> Disclaimer: Dark Angel is owned by Cameron/Eglee Productions and 20th Century Fox Television. Supernatural is owned by Kripke Enterprises, Warner Bros. Television, Wonderland Sound and Vision (in association with), and Supernatural Films. All original characters belong to me, all rights reserved and all lefts reversed. Thank you for letting me play.  
> originally written in 2009  
> finally fixed, and reposted.

            It was hot. And (if he was being perfectly honest with himself) he really didn’t want to deal with this shit. “So tell me, oh brilliant young clone of mine, what’s _your_ idea to hide _twelve fucking people_?” Dean didn’t need to look up from his Baby to know Alec was giving him a Look, which was completely Sam’s fault. Ignoring the _annoyance_ oozing from Alec, Dean carefully reached past a tangle of wires to tighten down the screws on her new battery—whipped up by one of their new additions—and then straightened, carefully wiping his hands of grease before closing the Impala’s hood. “Ok, out with it.”  
            “We could go to Canada.”  
            It took Dean a moment to realize Alec wasn’t joking. “Oh god, not this fucking conversation again!” Without giving him a moment to start in, Dean grabbed his wrench and tossed it into his tool box, not breaking stride as he snapped it up and made his way towards the clearing.  
            Alec had anticipated his move, keeping pace with him. “Dean, think about it. We can cross the border, get everyone out of the country, to where they have _freedom_ and we—“  
            “What, Alec?” Dean snapped, spinning around so quick that Alec nearly toppled into him. “Split up? Get away from those ‘weird psychics’? Abandon all the non transgenics—including Rosie and Tanya—and just disappear into an artic wasteland?”  
            Alec, for the smallest of moments, looked abashed. “Canada isn’t _arctic_.”  
            “Oh fuck off, will you? No. You wanna go, go. Have fun. Good luck getting Keegan to join your ass up there. Mate or not, she makes me look like I _love_ the idea.” He knew the subject was going to come up again, but at least Alec shut up.  This was likely because Keegan and Alec didn’t exactly fight quietly, which made them pretty much common knowledge. Dean knew it was a low blow, but seriously, this entire project was hard enough as it was, _and_ he wasn’t dealing with a majority of the _really_ difficult stuff. That was Sam’s job.  
            “We’re a bunch of freaks, so why not put us on show.” Dean forced himself not to bristle at Alec’s muttered jibe. He tried to concentrate on how Alec was just pushing his buttons, following his Alpha tendencies to push for rank…but it wasn’t helping very much. Alec was just so _very_ good at it.   With a muttered curse, he pushed open the door to his bunk.  
            “Impala tuned up?” Sam asked as he walked into the military standard temporary shelter that was currently his, Sam and Tanya’s home.  
            Dean glanced towards Sam, sighing. “Yeah. She feeling any better?” Sam glanced away, and Dean dropped the subject, looking down at Tanya, who was out cold on her and Sam’s bed; far too pale and skinny for her own good. “When are you gonna get her to a doctor?”  
            “When she lets me take her.” Sam’s voice was tight.  “ After what happened with Leah…”  
            Dean turned away, trying to hide the guilt and sorrow the name brought. Barely six months ago, a scant year from making their stand against the Breeding Cult, Leah had (kind of) happy news: she was pregnant. Dean was actually excited by the prospect (despite his apprehension of anything pint sized), until the fateful Hunt… Leah had taken the brunt of a wendigo swipe to the gut. Science still couldn’t contend with pure evil, and Dean had rushed Leah to the nearest ER whilst Alec, Keegan, Biggs and Sam had attempted to keep the thing entertained.  
            He knew she wasn’t going to make it the second he helped them lift her onto the table; there was too much blood, he had been holding her intestines in with his bare hands. What he didn’t expect was the hospital appropriating her corpse for ‘medical research’. Alec and Sam broke in that night to retrieve her. They never let him see her body, instead only leaving her face unwrapped for the pyre. From what Dean understood, Alec had spent most of the heist trying to locate her organs.   
            “Tanya’s not transgenic, so she should stop being so stupid about this.” Dean tried to unclench his fists, but the anger was still too close to the surface. By the startled expression on Sam’s face, it was showing in his voice too. “I’m sorry, Sam…”  
            But Sam was already shaking his head. “No, you’re right. …you’re right.” He sat down again, one hand already smoothing some of Tanya’s hair out of her face. “So, did Alec get on your case about Canada again?”  
            “When is he not?” Dean snorted, and pulled out the gun polish, resolutely not looking towards what used to be Leah’s side of his bed. “Speaking of, did you get contacts for the rides?”  
            Sam gave him a ghost of a smile, grabbing a pile of papers from the desk next to him. “Better. I _bought_ us rides. We lucked out, one’s going out of business in the next town over, and I got the whole lot. It was going for dirt, too.” He frowned. “Which still makes me question whether there will be a market for this…”  
            “Oh, there will be. And besides…” Dean said, scanning through the papers, “what better place to hide a bunch of freaks then in a carnival?”

***

            “Don’t you dare storm in here complaining about Canada.”  
            Alec froze in the doorway, and then rolled his eyes, ignoring the sniggers from Biggs and Brae in the living area and walked towards the back of his quarters. Keegan was sitting on their bed, reading.  Alec sighed. “Keely, baby, darling, the book is upside-down.”  
            “There’s a code here. And I’m not going to Canada. They talk funny up there, ay.”  
            “She’s gone through every book in the camp today. I really don’t know how she hasn’t given herself a migraine yet.” Biggs commented, standing to join Alec at the foot of the bed. He glanced at Alec’s face before grasping his shoulder. “Hey, it’s better than a month ago…She’s getting better.”  
            “ _She’s_ also not deaf, Biggs.” Keegan said, not looking up from her book. “So don’t talk about her like she’s not here.”  
            Alec fought very hard not to face-palm himself. “Biggs, go flirt with your new girl.” He ignored Brae’s indignation, and nodded in thanks at Biggs’ understanding as he moved out of the shelter, taking Brae with him.  
            “She doesn’t like you.” Keegan stated, still not looking up.  
            “I got that. And that’s too damn bad.” He sat down on the bed, careful not to disturb the book, but to his surprise, he got a double armful of Keegan. “Whoa! I’m glad to see you too, Keely.”  
            “Sam came by.” She said into his shirt. “He said I’m backsliding. And it made him sad.” She looked up at him, lip trembling, and Alec let his head fall back against the headboard. “Alec, I’m sorry.”  
            “Oh, Keegan, this isn’t your fault!” He held her close for a moment, wishing to the gods she would snap out of it, come back to him…  
            “I need to find the code,” she said, pushing herself off him and grabbing her book—still upside-down—from the bed. “If I find the code, I can be _me_ again….” Cradling her, Alec allowed himself to let a few silent tears fall, as he stroked her hair.

***

            Dean glanced away from the security screen with a sad sigh. He should have guessed. Alec always got more argumentative when Keegan was…less than lucid. She was better than right after the Battle, because _something_ clicked, and she had started her slow climb back to sanity. Dean wasn’t sure if either Keegan or Alec would make it through the process completely intact.  
            “Spying on Alec again?” Dean nearly jumped out of his seat. Spinning, he found Sam almost directly behind him. “Jumpy much?”  
            Dean shoved him and glared. “Shuddup, Sammy. I was checking in on them.”  
            Sam gave him that knowing look that Dean _hated_. “Uh-huh. You could have asked me if you wanted to know about Keegan.”  
            Dean leaned back in his chair, cracking open a beer, “I thought you had that whole Doctor-Patient confidentiality bull.”  
            He was graced with a Look.  “Since when am I a real doctor? And besides, it’s _Keegan_.” Sam glanced back to the screen, and his expression shifted to something much more pitying. “She was making excellent progress. Lucid…and then…today…” He shook his head. “She can’t hunt with us again.”  
            “I told her she would break her brain.” Dean said, but he couldn’t muster up the anger with it. In the bottom of his heart, he knew where the blame for this one fell…and it was on the person—no, _being_ —who made her perform that final duty as Puck.  Dean blamed God. He knew Alec did too. “Sammy, couldn’t this be temporary…like when Alec got shot? High emotion?”  
            By the heavy sigh Sam gave, Dean could tell it was wishful thinking. “How much progress has she actually made? When she’s on a Hunt…she’s on autopilot. The sane times…if you can call them completely sane…”  
            “Sam.” Dean warned.  
            “Dean. They _were_ getting longer and at more frequent intervals. This sudden switch? Everything I’ve read tells me this is a _bad_ sign, Dean. We shouldn’t get our hopes up. And neither should Alec.”  
            “He’s not going to leave her.”  Dean mumbled into his beer.  
            “Neither are we.” Something pinged on his watch, and Sam looked down in surprise, panic flitting across his face. “I need to get back to Tanya. Her fever spiked.” He was already moving towards the door, face white.  
            “You’re taking her to a fucking hospital and that’s a fucking order!” Dean yelled after him. He sighed again, and tore his gaze from Keegan and Alec’s cam, moving on to the four others. One showed himself, sitting with the gear, and the security feeds, another, Sam rushing into their room, blurring to get to Tanya, and pushing passed the camp nurse, Cera. The others looked in on their other ‘tents’, which housed the rest of their mismatched clan, most restless and pacing.  Everyone was on edge.  
            Responsibility sucked.

***

            “She won’t wake up.” Sam frowned into his coffee, wondering how the hell Keegan had managed to slip past Alec and the key-coded door to get into Sam and Dean’s ‘tent’. And then he took in the whole scene.  Keegan was kneeling by Tanya—still unmoving and pale in their bed—and she was worriedly stroking her hair. As if she could tell she finally had his attention, Keegan gave a gentle shove to Tanya’s shoulder— the same one that Sam used on her every morning to wake her up. Tanya didn’t respond, her breathing continuing to come in pant-like breaths. “She won’t wake up, Sammy. Something’s wrong.”  
            It wasn’t until four hours later, in the waiting room of the hospital, watching Alec cradle Keegan in his arms that Sam fully appreciated that _something_ had happened with his adopted sister.  Pushing aside his grief and worry, he stood and moved to sit on the other side of Keegan, immediately catching Alec’s attention. He felt a tentative surge of protectiveness, and mustered up the best smile he could to help alleviate Alec’s fears. He had to remember to talk to Alec about remembering to _speak_ rather than _emote_ , which was saying something; Sam was usually the one complaining about Alec never shutting up.  
            “Keely?” He was rather surprised when she turned in Alec’s arms to look at him on the first prompting. Her eyes, however, weren’t focused, “Hey, do you remember how you knew Tanya needed help?”  
            She glanced at Alec before answering, “I just knew I had to see Tanya.”  
            “And how’d you get to Tanya?”  
            Keegan buried her face back into Alec’s chest.  He just sighed, and shared a look with Sam. However, very quietly, a muffled, “Dunno.” Came from his shirt.  
            “She teleported, Sam.” Alec said, keeping his voice low. “Yeah, I know. She can’t…but she did. Biggs saw her do it too.”  
            Sam sighed, lost in his own thoughts. A moment later, he realized there was someone tugging on his shirt. He looked down at Alec, who looked…Sam wasn’t quite sure what to call his expression. “What does this mean?” He whispered.  
            Guilt surged through Sam as he realized what he was seeing. “I don’t know, Alec. I wish I did.” It was hope.

***

            “Harvelle? Tanya Harvelle?” Sam bolted out of the chair so fast that Dean felt a tailwind. The white-coated doctor looked mildly alarmed, but held her ground. “And you are…”  
            “Family!” Dean yelled over Sam. “I’m her brother, that’s her—“  
            “Boyfriend. Yeah.” The doctor smiled, placing a comforting hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You may want to sit down, Mr…”  
            It took Sam a moment to respond.  “Sam Winchester. Sam.”  He seemed unsure of the correct answer.  
            The doctor spared a glance towards Dean before focusing on Sam. “Sam, my name is Sarah Grey. I’m an Oncologist.”

            Dean leapt forward, Sam had turned very green, and then very white. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, there, Sammy. I got you.” He didn’t even need to ask: Alec (one side of his nearly shoulder length blonde hair in a messy braid—Keegan’s handiwork) was already putting a hand under Sam’s other shoulder. The doctor glanced between Alec and Dean with a rather confused expression.  
            “Lady gotta staring problem?” Alec snapped, not looking at her but instead focusing on trying to get Sam’s overly large frame into the small hospital chairs.

            Dr. Grey hastily averted her eyes. “I’m sorry.” She said, hastily flipping through Tanya’s chart. Dean resisted the urge to grab it from her and read it for himself. “Tanya has a meningioma.  It’s--”  
            “Brain cancer?!” Dean _really_ wanted to slap Alec, but settled for shooting him a glare that shut the kid up.  
            Dr. Grey nodded, clearly confused. “We believe it’s metastatic. However, so far we have been unable to figure out the source, which has severely limited our treatment options.” She focused on Dean, and Dean—for his part—tried to ignore the sobs coming from Sam. “Without knowing where it started, we can’t radiate. And that’s not the primary issue.” From the file, Grey pulled out an MRI. “The problem is the tumor resting on the posterior hypothalamus; a part essential for being awake.” She glanced towards Sam, her expression full of sad understanding. “You’ll be able to take her home as soon as she’s stable, a few days at most.  I’m afraid that’s the only thing we can do is make her comfortable.”  
            Dean nodded, waving the doctor off. His head was swimming, and he needed to make sure Sam was ok.  The same Sam who was currently vomiting into a wastebasket, being held by a very disgusted looking Alec. Keegan had adopted a very similar expression, rubbing Sam’s back in small circles, making a whining noise in the back of her throat.  
            He didn’t know how it was going to be alright. He didn’t know how _anything_ could be alright.

***

            Nights were hard for Alec, having to lay beside his mate, the one female in the entire world who could debilitate him with a glance, who clung to him in her insanity induced innocence. His reaction to her body was far from innocent.  It was damn near torture.  Keegan was clinging to him especially tight tonight, likely warding off bad dreams replaying the day’s events. But, there was something …different. She whined in her sleep, and he reached over, brushing away the hair that had fallen into her face. His fingers came back sweaty.  Alec rolled his eyes; Keegan had a thing for piling on blankets.  No wonder she was warm. “Silly girl.” Alec muttered into Keegan’s hair, snuggling closer to her.

            His eyes snapped open. He _knew_ that scent. It hadn’t appeared since before the Last Battle. His body reacted instantly, and he had to fight down the sudden, primal _need_ that nearly overtook him.  As gently as he could, he disentangled himself from her, struggling out of the bed, barely catching the alarm clock before it hit the ground as he stumbled into the bedside table.

            It was enough to wake up Biggs in the tent next to his—the male groggily sniffing before yelping “Oh shit!”.  Alec barely had a second to register Biggs’ voice before he was tackled sideways and his face was pressed against the cold metal not completely disguised by the shabby throw rugs. “Please don’t kill me, but dude, she’s—“  
            “I know she’s in heat, Biggs! And I swear to the _gods_ you better have boxers on or else I _will_ kill you.” The pressure on him was immediately lifted and Alec rolled his eyes, shoving down hard on the bulge in his own boxers before standing. Keegan was staring at him from their bed, an expression of mild confusion and sleepiness on her features. Biggs was struggling with his boxers and Brae—Biggs’ girl of the moment--had pulled a blanket around herself, following Biggs in with her com in her hand.  Alec sighed.  “I’m cool, seriously. I was just trying to get outside.” He said, trying to pull out a shirt from the pile of laundry. “Wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”  
            “Alec…” Keegan whined. And it went straight to the bulge in his boxers.  
            Squeezing his eyes shut, he struggled into the shirt, and pushed past Biggs. “I’m gonna need you to come with me.” He growled.  
            “But, Dude, Brae…”  
            Alec whirled on him. “Be glad I’m not taking you down right the fuck now and remember _Keegan’s in heat_.”  
            Slowly, a look of understanding dawned on Biggs’ face. “Oh.” And he gave Brae an apologetic look. She glared at Alec, arms crossed in resentment of her sudden—and unwanted—babysitting gig.  
            “She really hates me.” Alec muttered, forcing himself to keep moving.  
            “Well, she tends to resent my…er…pack loyalties. Thinks you and Keegan are more important than her.” He chuckled, “It’s true. I’m just not gonna tell her that.” He smirked, shoving Alec, making him stumble a little bit. “You’re my gay lover, and you don’t even buy me flowers.”  
            Alec couldn’t help but mock snarl and charge at Biggs. The play-fight was quick: Alec’s momentum taking Biggs down into the mud, but Biggs rolled with it, flipping Alec over him. Alec got his feet under him and dove at him again, this time catching Biggs flat but his momentum sent him sprawling.  On and on, until they were both covered in mud and out of breath.  
            “Ok, ok! I call Uncle!” Biggs rasped, half an hour later.

            Alec, panting, dropped the headlock he had been holding Biggs in, and flopped into the mud beside him. “Heh…That’s one way to kick pheromones.”  
            “You haven’t been laid in way too long.” Alec shoved Biggs. “I only speak truth, man.”  
            “It’s a sad truth.” Alec sighed, picking at the mud on his hands. “It’s kinda been a blessing she hasn’t gone into heat since…Before. It’s hard enough to deal with the usual frustration.” He paused, pulling at the webbing between forefinger and thumb.  
            Biggs peered at him curiously. “Alec? What are you thinking?”  
            “She hasn’t had a heat cycle since we took down Lilith! You know, when she _fractured her mind_.” Alec stood, and shook himself like a wet dog, sending mud everywhere.  A majority of it hit Biggs’ face. “This _means_ something!” Alec blurred to Sam and Dean’s bunker, pounding on the door loud enough to wake the camp.  
            Biggs slowly wiped mud from his eyes, and shook his head. “You are too fucking feral for your own good, 494.”  
            “494’s not his name anymore.” Biggs spun, surprised as hell to find Keegan, looking calmer and saner then she ever did, sitting on a rock a few yards away. Her gaze was on Alec, who was currently arguing in the doorway with a rather annoyed looking Sam.  Biggs swallowed hard, half expecting to be signing his own death warrant from exposure to her pheromones, but he only scented the barest hint of estrus.  Alec’s reaction wasn’t making much sense… “I’m trying to find my way back, Biggs.” His eyes snapped to Keegan again, who was now focused on him. “I’m almost there…I’m just missing…something.”  Her eyes were sad, and were already returning to their usual, dreamy state.  
            Now all trace of the scent was gone. Biggs glanced at Alec (still arguing with Sam) before turning back to Keegan. The calm demeanor was gone, now she was scared and lost. Hesitantly, Biggs stood and made his way over to her, whining in the back of his throat. She clung to him the moment he got within arm’s reach. “No wonder you’re drivin’ Alec crazy, Keely.” He mumbled, helping her to her feet.  
            “Not crazy. Code is _here_.” She met his eyes for the briefest of moments. “I don’t like this me, Biggs. I want _me_ back.”  
            Biggs gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head. “We all do, sister.”  
            “Keegan? Keegan! What the hell!” Alec blurred towards them in the mud puddle, sending mud flying. “Biggs! Why is she out here? Keely, baby, why are you out here?”  
            Sam was right behind him, looking sleep deprived and annoyed. “Shit! Biggs!”  
            “That’s my fucking name! Thank you!” Biggs snapped. “She teleported herself out here, and she’s not giving off pheromones anymore. I’m hitting the showers.” He shoved Alec as he pushed past him. “You’re welcome, by the way.” He shoved his way past Sam, grumbling to himself.  
            “Aw fuck.” Alec groaned, watching him go with one arm protectively around Keegan’s shoulders. “Biggs!”  
            Biggs waved him off, not turning around.  
            Sam sighed. “Sorry, Alec.” He leaned into Keegan, sniffing gently. “But he’s right, no pheromones. Odd, considering you were reeking of them before.” At Alec’s sigh, he placed a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you kids go get cleaned up yourselves. We’re movin’ out to pick up the rides later.”  
            Alec wasn’t sure his mood could get worse, but _boy_ did he love being proven wrong. “Well, ain’t that just peachy.”  
            “Spinny-spinny, fast—whoooo!” Keegan said, using Alec’s arm to balance herself as she spun on her heel. “Fun!”  
            Neither Sam nor Alec could completely hide their smirks from the other.  Alec even cracked a smile.  “Ok, maybe this carnival shit won’t be _all_ bad.”  
            Sam grinned back. “I’m telling Dean you said that.”  
            “Yeah, yeah,” He muttered, waving a hand in Sam’s general direction. “Come on, Keely, I got ya’ muddy.”  
            Keegan wasn’t listening; she had frozen where she was. The smile from her spinning was still fading from her face.  Sam felt a surge of dread, amplified by Alec’s emoting, and took a step forward. Keegan seemed to register the movement, and blinked, her eyes focusing.  
            She looked past Sam to Alec, who was standing as still as only a wild animal could get. And Sam _got_ it. Alec was trying not to spook her. This was the clearest Sam had ever seen her eyes—the foreign little feeling of hope fluttered gently in his chest—  
            Keegan pushed herself up on tiptoe to press a kiss to Alec, who looked absolutely terrified she would break if he kissed back too hard. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m trying.”  
            “I know.” Alec responded, pulling her to his chest and holding her tight against him. There were tears obstructing his vision, for the connection with her was already fading. “You’re doing it.”  
            “She spoke? Lucidly?”  
            Alec looked over at Sam, now stroking Keegan’s hair. “Yeah. You saw that one, Sammy. Now what would you say that was?”  
            Sam hated to admit it, but Alec may have been on to something. “Maybe you’re right…but from a psychological standpoint, that type of snap in and out of reality is impossible.” He said, frowning.  
            Alec raised his eyebrows. “Sam, we’re genetically engineered soldiers who have preternatural abilities on the run from our creators and hunting down the paranormal. I don’t think ‘impossible’ applies to us.”  
            “The only limitation is the imagination.” Keegan agreed, picking mud from Alec’s hair.

            Sam rolled his eyes. “Go on. Go get cleaned up. I’m heading to the hospital, gonna pick up Tanya.” He tried desperately to cover the tremors in his voice, but he could tell Alec heard. It was the Winchester curse. John had lost Mary, Dean lost Leah, Alec had only Keegan’s shell and Sam? Hell, Jessica, and now Tanya…  
            Sam shook his head. He wasn’t going to think about that.

***

            Dean had been awake since he heard the door to the bunker open. But, for the life of him, he couldn’t muster the will to get up. Everything; there was just too much.  He knew why Dad had gotten drunk. It felt like the entire world was pressing down on him—the lives of twelve other people relied on him—and all he wanted to do was hide, sleep.  But, it was nearly seven am now, and it wasn’t the usual morning bustle he was hearing outside. He cocked his head, just listening.  
            By the sound of it, it was the beginnings of a pack fight, and Dean knew he had to move. By the time he got to the door, though, the entire clan was in the central fire pit area, where Alec and Brae were currently circling each other, snarling.  He kinda wished Sam hadn’t left yet. “Oh fuck. Alec! At ease!”  
            “I doubt that’s gonna stop them; he thinks Brae wasn’t watching her…again.” Cera whispered, smirking. “Which I honestly think was the case. Again.”  
            “Keep comments like that to yourself, Cer.” Dean growled, pushing past her and into the no-man’s-land between the spectators and the ring. It was a simple thing to grab both by their barcodes, eliciting a yelp and weak struggle from Alec, while only a whimper from Brae. “This is _not_ how we solve problems here, children! Cera! Rosie! Hold her! Biggs!”  The three broke ranks, Cera and Rosie going for Brae’s arms while Biggs joined Dean in attempting to restrain Alec. However, Alec wasn’t as docile as Brae, and fought until Dean wrestled one arm up and behind his back, hyperextending Alec’s shoulder. “ _Alec_.”

            His clone still snarled, but didn’t struggle, finally turning his attention to Dean. “Seven times!”

            “Put her in a home where she belongs!” Brae hissed. Alec surged forward, nearly puling free despite Dean’s hold on his shoulder.  
            Rosie dropped Brae’s arm and slapped her hard across the face. Immediately Shaun darted forward, preventing her from landing a second blow. “Rose, not helping.” Glowering, Rosie switched places with Shaun, heading back to the ring of observers. “Brae, you joined us with the same expectations as everyone else. We’re a family. We’re not leaving Keegan anywhere unless you want _your_ ass left…” he trailed off, looking around the circle. “And that goes for everyone. I’m _not_ having this conversation again. Brae, only warning.” She wouldn’t meet his eyes, and it was pissing Dean off.  There was a snarl, and Brae dropped to her stomach, rolling to bare her long neck. After a second, Dean realized the sound had come from him.  He quickly glanced around, noting that his entire pack—excluding the Special Children—had gotten lower to the ground. He was unsurprised that Alec was the highest up. The staring was starting to get to him.  “Ok, guys, get up. We got work to do. Alec, to me.” He watched the others leave, long enough to see Biggs and Rose gently steer Keegan away.  He looked back to Alec, who was glaring at the scene. “Knock it off.”  
            Alec’s eyes were feral. “What?”  
            “Knock. It. Off.” Dean repeated, his face softening. “I know you’re worried about Keegan.” He paused; he could have sword Alec just hissed. “What?”  
            “Brae’s Manticore through and through. She’s here for the mission. Sickness mean’s you’re put down.” Alec’s eyes went colder and he gave a mirthless laugh. “And you want us to be happy carnival clowns…I don’t think you know what you got yourself into.  You really have no idea what we are.”  
            Dean swallowed hard, allowing Alec to stalk off.  He hated to admit it, but he was starting to think Alec was right.


	2. Chapter 2

            Ellen had found them, bringing along Jo and Sketchy and a half dozen more refugees from Terminal City.  Dean wasn’t particularly happy about the number of people joining them; it made things more difficult.  He waited until Ellen had shooed the last of the kids off the truck before he cornered her. “You said no one was coming with you.”

            Ellen near leapt out of her skin, spinning and grabbing at her heart.  “ _Jesus_ , Dean!”  It took her a moment to catch her breath.  “And no one _was_.  These idjits struck out on their own; Max asked us to track ‘em down and make sure they got here alright.  I figured she didn’t get your permission.”

            “There’s a reason why we keep ourselves off of her radar, Ellen, and you should know better.”  He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration.  “Go get your kids settled in.  I’ll give them the break down later.”  Ellen nodded, hurrying off to follow his command.

            None of the new arrivals approached him, and Dean was glad.  He was _livid_ , and it was pouring off him in waves.  Even Alec second guessed goading him, stepping back, keeping his head low.  Dean reveled in the freedom the isolation brought, and used it to make his way to the security bunker: it would have to be appropriated as housing with so many new arrivals.  
            His anger didn’t deter Jo from cornering him while he was dismantling the security feeds.  She took a cursory look around before fixing him with a Look that he was actively ignoring.  “I saw Keegan.”  
            “Way to jump into sensitive subjects. Sketchy knock you up yet?” he shot back, pulling out wires with a vehemence he wasn’t completely in control of. Jo stared at him in an eerie imitation of her mother.  Dean glanced up at her, and sighed, realizing he had already lost the battle.  “She’s…I don’t know. I can’t _do_ anything, though. It’s _Keegan_ , and she’s…” Something wet hit his hand. With a mild ‘huh’ of surprise, he realized he was crying.  
            Jo was already there, pulling the wires from his hands and then pulling him into her arms. “Dean, let it out.”  
            “And it’s Leah! And-and Tanya! And…and Sam!  I don’t want to do this anymore!  I’m tired of running this shit!” Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized he should be embarrassed or ashamed, but for right now, it was ok, it was alright, he could just be.  
            “I know.” Jo said, running her hand through his hair, “its ok.” She held him for a long while. She seemed to know he needed it.

***

            Sam always hated hospitals, but today was the absolute worst. They had said he could take her home, but when he had gotten there, he had been directed to a waiting room, passed from nurse to nurse when he questioned them about Tanya’s status. Handled. Sam hated being handled.  Being handled meant that _something was not right_ , and he didn’t think he could take much more _not right_.  
            “Mr. Winchester?” The woman’s tone didn’t bode well.  
            Sam stayed sitting, not trusting his legs. “Where is she?”

            The doctor came and sat down next to him, which worried more than comforted him.  “Tanya…” She sighed.   Sam already knew what was coming. “She’s very weak. Her vitals dropped last night. We did another scan this morning…the tumor has grown two centimeters.”  
            “ _How long_.” His voice didn’t sound like his own.  
            The doctor sighed again, medical school hadn’t trained her how to break the news to someone like him. Sam vaguely wondered if he had ever bothered to ask her name. “A few hours, at most. I honestly don’t know why she’s still alive. I can only guess it was to see you.” The woman’s voice was wavering by the time she finished the last syllable. “I don’t think that’s really much incentive to see her.”  
            Somehow, some way, the absurdity of the idea made him chuckle. The doctor looked alarmed, but Sam put a hand up, feeling tears falling but _knowing_. “It’s alright. I mean…it has to be alright, right? No more suffering and all?”  
            She didn’t look like she believed his sudden calm.  Sam wasn’t sure _he_ believed it either.“ Do you have someone you’d like me to call?”  
            He didn’t know how to explain to her that he needed to do this alone, that he couldn’t bring this back to his Clan, couldn’t burden them with this. “No, no. I’ll call them.” _After…after._

***

            “No. No. No. No, no, no.”  
            It took him a minute, but he finally found her, crouched in the mud under Dean’s absurdly _conspicuous_ Impala. Biggs sighed, peering down at Keegan, head cocked. “Keegan, why are you under the car?”  
            Keegan stared at him, eyes reflecting in the dim light; she looked like a cornered kitten.  “No.”  
            He sighed—these pants were _clean_ —and knelt to look better at her. “No isn’t an answer to that question.”  
            “No, I don’t wanna go with them.” She said, pointing.  
            Biggs paused—what the hell could be behind him that he couldn’t scent coming? The hesitation cost him, and Biggs hit the ground, vision black.  And so he never saw what knocked him out, which _really_ wasn’t good when he awoke to _very_ angry yellow-green eyes inches from his own. “You’re gonna kill me.”  
            The eyes closed, and Alec took a deliberate, calming breath, “What happened.”  
            Biggs’ head swam, and his vision blurred. He could feel Alec shake him, keeping him grounded on reality. “Whatever hit me…” Biggs struggled to sit up, to organize his thoughts. “Keegan made another ‘port. Shoulda been watching more carefully, but she hasn’t been able to ‘port in so long that I got sloppy.” Guilt swarmed through him.  
            He was surprised when Alec clasped him on the shoulder, quietly saying, “She got away from me too. I can’t fault you for that one.”  
            Sadly, it didn’t help much. “I found her under the Impala. It was weird. She was chanting ‘no’ over and over…I tried to get her to come out. She wouldn’t, she was scared of something behind me. I shoulda looked, but I didn’t hear or scent a thing! And the wards are up.” Biggs hung his head. “They got me kneeling. I never saw them.”  
            A sudden wave of _anger-pain-understanding_ nearly knocked Biggs over again as Alec struggled to reign in his emotions. “It’s not your fault.” His voice was cracked.  
            Biggs _really_ didn’t like the look on his CO’s face. “Who is it?” Alec ignored him, feigning deafness. “I’ve known you too long for that bullshit, 494. You’ve _met_ something you can’t hear or scent and can get through our wards.”  
            Alec shot him a withering glare.  “I’ve met several things that fit that description, when the mood fits them…” He paused, his gaze going distant as he searched through his memories for the exact ‘file’.  
            Biggs swore he was making him wait as part of the punishment. “Earth to Alec.”  
            “It has to be Keegan’s people. The Faerie. They’re the only people we can’t ward against.” With how Alec’s face fell, Biggs got the distinct impression there was more to that then clapping and shouting ‘I do believe in fairies! I do! I do!’.  
            “Alec…Keegan’s an X5.  _We_ are her people.”  
            The withering glare was back.  “Her genetic donor was fey. But the Faerie don’t usually come here, they don’t like the…” his eyes widened. “Iron.”  
            It clicked for Biggs too. “That’s why she was hiding under the damn car.” But something else occurred to him, “Alec, why would her own people, if it’s them, come after her?”  
            Alec bit his lip, finally standing from his crouch. “That is an excellent question.” He sighed. “And since I can’t track them without Keegan…and what the hell kind of mate does that make me?!” the last part was snarled, Alec’s anger getting the better of him.  
            Biggs winced despite himself, even as Alec spun on his heel and took off towards Dean’s bunker.

***

            Alec burst into the bunker with such force, the hinges broke, but he spared it little thought. “Dean! They took Keegan!” The words left his mouth before he actually took in the scene in front of him: Sam was curled in on himself, crying. Dean had his arms wrapped around his brother’s shoulders in what appeared to be a hug. Alec cocked his head to the side, confused. No, that was definitely a hug. Closer to a cuddle, if he was honest. “Uh…guys?”  
            “Not now, Alec.” Dean hissed, barely glancing at him. “Tanya…” He didn’t finish his sentence; fresh tears were streaming down Sam’s face. Alec knew what happened.  He would mourn Tanya as well, _after_ they dealt with the living.  He snarled, catching their attention. Finally. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Alec? I said—“  
            “They. Took. _Keegan._.” He growled, stalking into the bunker. “As in, didn’t trip the wards and could sneak up on an X5.  Slightly more important than someone who is already dead.”  Now that he had their attention, it only took them a second longer than him to figure it out.  
            “Who screwed up?”  
            “The Faerie?”  
            Well, Sam anyway.   Alec sighed.  “She was hiding under the Impala when she was taken. Iron. Biggs couldn’t scent or hear the thing that took him out.” He looked at Sam, who looked so…worn out. So… _old_. The thought made him shudder. “Sam, I’m sorry.”  
            “I know, Alec. The living come first. We’ll mourn her later.” His voice sounded strange and it gave Alec a chill.  
            “Sammy, are you sure?” Dean asked, shooting a glare at Alec. It was oddly possessive, and Alec cocked an eyebrow, his expression clearly reading ‘what the fuck’.  Dean continued to glower.

Sam broke them all out of it. “How the hell are we supposed to track Faerie?”  
            Alec reluctantly looked towards Sam. “I was hoping Keegan mentioned something to you when she was helping you with that rehab thing before you were all Xs.”  When Sam’s face fell, Alec fought hard to keep the unshed tears in check. He wasn’t going to break down. Breaking down never helped a soldier do anything.  
            “Alec?” That was Dean, and Alec stepped away before he could touch his shoulder and possibly affect him with this sudden Winchester-touchy-feely-crap. “Hey, man—“  
            But Alec had enough, and was already turning on his heel, on his way out the busted door.  Sam and Dean were left staring after him.

***

            She was nowhere, and it scared her.  “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!”  
            “It is like they broke her.” Keegan flinched away from the coal black hand that reached to stroke her face. “It is cruel, what they make them do.”  
            “It was her final duty to _your_ people that caused this.” Said another voice, and she knew that voice. “That’s why _you_ have to fix it.”  
            “I can fix it myself!” Keegan yelled, fighting against invisible chains that seemed to ensnare her as she thought to escape. “No, no, no, no, no, no, NO!”

            “Easy, my friend.” Said the familiar voice. “Sleep now, and I promise I will make them fix you.” Her eyelids felt heavy and she yawned…


	3. Chapter 3

            Dean awoke with the most bizarre feeling overtaking every single one of his senses.  At first, he thought it was the fact he was being used as a giant teddy bear by Sam, who had been far too distraught to sleep in his own bed the night before. Distraught enough that Dean had taken all of the weapons and hidden them in the armory.

            He was stressed, but he knew that stress.  This was an unease that hit his very bones. He felt like his skin was electrified. “I gotta go check on the rest of the clan, Sammy.” Sam gave a groggy nod, and settled himself back down, closing eyes that had barely looked open to begin with. Crying had nearly sealed them shut.  It killed him, this wasn’t something he could protect his brother from.  
            However, when he walked out into the cold— _cold?_ —morning air, he was met with the most unusual scene: every transgenic in camp was standing outside, staring at the horizon with their hair on edge, eyes focusing on a green-tinged line of sky, just below the dark fall of clouds…  
            He made his way to the nearest, “Uh, Marsh?” The reptilian transgenic tore his gaze away from the sky to glance at Dean, but for barely a second. “Why is the sky _green_?”  
            “I didn’t have any training in meteorology, Dean-o, but something’s up.” he said, on edge, his voice hissing.  
            Lightning struck a tree barely a kilometer away. All of them started like a bunch of wild animals, jerking low, but remaining where they were. And then, out of the blue, it clicked. “This is tornado weather…” Dean’s face paled, “Move it _now_!” He rushed forward, shoving the transgenics to get them to snap them out of it, sometimes more than once.  He grabbed Alec by the shoulders, giving him a rough shake. “Get the gear packed, get the demonborne awake and on the move, double time! Now!”  
            Alec looked at him, fear—primal fear—in his eyes. “Dean…I’ve never…”  He sounded petrified.  
            “I’ve only been close to one once, and I was maybe nine or ten. Trust me when I say we have got to move and move now. We don’t have the equipment to track this, to avoid it, all we can do is-“  
            Lightning struck again, far closer this time. Hail the size of golf balls started to fall, one striking an X on the head, and she went down, Dean knew from the sound her skull made that the block of ice had gone through. Even so, Alec blurred to her, dodging through the ice, and lifted her into his arms. Blood soaked his shirt as he fought to get to where Sam, finally awake, was gathering the entire clan.  
            The balls of ice were making a horrible racket to normal ears against the metal of the structure.  The transgenics were suffering worse, most already plugging their ears.  Alec and Biggs were checking over the fallen X, but both of them had grim looks, and Dean wasn’t surprised when Biggs shook his head, and Alec grabbed a table cloth from one of the tables and pulled it over her still form.  “Brae?” Alec nodded.  
            “We’re not going to make it out of there when there’s hail falling.” Biggs said, glancing under the sheet and wincing again as he took in the damage to Brae’s skull. “I mean, we’re good, but we’re not _that_ good.”  
            Both of them looked to Dean, who shrugged, glancing around at the others and the various minor injuries. “Dad got us out at the warning, when they evacuated the rest of the town. Said the ghoul wouldn’t stick around when the meat left too. I’ve never been this close to--” Something large hit the side of the mess hall. Several people screamed.  
            “Have I mentioned I hate this planet lately?” Alec muttered, going to a window to peer out.

            Dean almost couldn’t believe his stupidity, and grabbed him, pulling him back.  “Manticore obviously forgot to program you all with common sense. You stay _away_ from windows in a tornado. Now, Sam, what can we do?”  
            Sam bit his lip, peering out at the storm a good distance away from the supposedly bullet-proof glass. “I don’t know, man. This…this is weird.”  
            “It came on too fast.”  Alec said, standing far too still, just like all the other Xs. “It’s not like any other storm I’ve ever studied or seen. I studied some meteorology back at Manticore, never experienced it though.” He explained.  
            “I wasn’t going to say anything…but that sort of confirms it.” Sam said, pulling Dean and Alec in close. “I don’t think this is natural.”  
            “Just what we need.” Alec growled, pulling away from the huddle just as another flash of lightning burst overhead. The thunder boomed loud and close, and on any other occasion, watching the seven odd transgenics drop to the ground as if ducking from an incoming missile would have been amusing—if the thunder hadn’t rocked the mess hall with the force of a mortar round.  
            “You know, it might just be the storm, but I’m starting to agree with Alec.” Dean muttered, brushing dust from his hair as Rosie ran over to him, the other demonborne looking equally fearful.  Sam just bit his lip.

***

            There were several things about this place she didn’t like. The first was that it was cold. The second was that there was nothing to read. Part of Keegan recognized that was odd—reading wasn’t high on the priority of survival…but she was bored.  And she hated being bored.  
            “Keegan?” She looked up, trying to see the familiar voice. She knew she should see someone, but she never could, so she never could recognize who the voice was. “Keegan, are you awake?”  
            “Who…who are you? I know you…”  
            For a long moment, she thought she scared the voice away. “You can’t see me?”  
            “No. I think I should.” She nearly jumped when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder, and feathers brush her cheek, like she was being enfolded in wings.  
            The familiar voice sighed. “You have to forgive yourself too, Keely. You can’t pin sin on yourself.”  
            Well, that didn’t make much sense. “Did I do something wrong? I feel like I did.”  And it did.  It really, really did.  
            “No,” The voice sounded very sad, “You did your job, you did something right.”  
            For the briefest of moments, she saw black feathers and a bit of a trench coat. And then she knew something. “I need to choose.” She said, part of her feeling happy, but not quite knowing why.  Part of her knew. Part of her understood.  “Tell them, Castiel.”

***

            “Sir?”

            Dean winced, not used to being addressed as such, and glared at Alec when he elbowed him sharply. He offered a patronizing smile to Rani—a new X6—who was standing at attention in front of the battered picnic table. “Yes?”  
            Rani shifted under his gaze, looking very uncomfortable. “There’s a strange man and a…well, I _think_ she’s an X5—“  
            There was a blast of air that nearly knocked Dean from his perch on the table; that was Alec’s tailwind. One of these days Dean swore that kid was gonna break the speed of sound. “Thank you.” He said to the stunned Rani, who nodded meekly, before following Alec out.         He made it two feet before he slammed into Alec’s back.  His younger clone was practically vibrating but oddly still.  It may have been because Castiel and Keegan were standing at gunpoint at the edge of the clearing.  Dean allowed himself a ‘huh’ before stepping around Alec and heading into the clearing.  The moment Cas sensed him, he gave him that look—which wasn’t so different from any of his other looks, but meant ‘Damnit, Dean’—and Dean rolled his eyes. “Ok, you kids are _way_ too gun-happy. Stand down. And no more sugar.” He forcefully shoved down Biggs’ gun, shooting him a glare before looking back to Cas. “Long time no see.”  
            Cas’ expression didn’t change.  “I was ordered away. There was much…political unrest.”  
            Dean glanced back at Alec, still seemingly frozen with his eyes on Keegan. A glance towards her showed a similar affliction. “I see you found Keely.”  
            “No. I took her.”  Cas sounded mildly agitated he hadn’t figured it out.  
            Thank god Alec was in that damned lovesick trance, because _Dean_ was finding it hard to keep himself from launching at Castiel. “Now…Cas…,”  Dean forced the anger out of his voice, but it only seemed to make his words oddly sing-song, “why would you go and do a damned _stupid_ thing like that?”  
            Castiel apparently understood that ‘sing-song’ meant ‘seething with anger’. “Dean, I know you are angry—you, Sam, and Alec most of all would be, I know—but this was the only way to help her.”  
            Dean resisted the urge to cause bodily harm.  “Oh please, don’t give me that holier than thou bullshit--”  
            “How? Tell me how you would mend the rift in her mind, Dean Winchester. What amazing abilities do you possess to give and take magical abilities, and alter memories and give blessings?” Dean fell silent, begrudgingly. Castiel continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “I took her to her people, and begged on her last act they that mend her.”  
            “They took an exchange.” Sam said from his other side, and Dean jumped. He’d been too absorbed in being pissed, he hadn’t heard him. “They took something in exchange for helping her.”  
            “They gave her a choice.” Cas corrected, before falling into a pointed silence.  
            Dean blinked, and glanced around again, finally taking in the surroundings beyond the fact that Sam had joined them. Jo and Ellen had run out, and several more of their usual Xs had joined the original two with their shotguns still loaded, if aimed towards the ground. Quite an armed and dangerous crowd. “Quieter setting, right.” He sighed. “Yo!” Everyone’s eyes snapped to him. “Back to clean up! We got hit hard by the storm, let’s not get lazy, or paranoid.” He snapped, pointing to Cera. She swallowed hard.  He made a shooing motion with his hands, and slowly, the kids moved, almost every single one of them glancing at Alec before heading off. It irked him, but Dean forced himself to ignore it, instead focusing on Keegan and Alec. “Are you…?”  Dean wasn’t even sure what he thought Cas was doing.  
            Castiel nodded. “I was unsure of how they would react. I thought it would be best to wait until you and Sam were present.”  
            “Now hang on a second.” Ellen drawled, breaking into the conversation. Dean rolled his eyes, and opened his mouth, but she slapped him on the back of his head. “How do we even know that really is Keegan? And not some changeling? Or Golem?”

            “Wait, wait, what?” Dean asked, glancing at Sam. “Changelings take the forms of kids, and golems…well, you got me.”  
            “I did a lot of research on faerie to see if I could help find Keegan, Dean, especially since you seemed so _busy_ these past few weeks.” There was a bite to Ellen’s voice, triggering all sorts of bad emotions. Dean felt his hair bristling.  
            “Now is not the time for suspicion, Ellen.” Castiel said in that frustratingly calm voice of his. “I’m going to release Keegan and Alec now.  I believe they have waited long enough.”  He looked towards the two, and the air felt heavier.  
            There was a moment of stillness, pretty much identical to what they had been doing while Cas had them frozen.  But Alec blurred to her, catching her one arm behind her back, and her other wrist as she struck to defend herself.  
            Dean got the wind knocked out of him as Sam’s arm’s caught him around the midsection, preventing him from interfering. “What the--”  
            “Listen!” Sam hissed. And just barely, Dean could make out words coming from the blurring scuffle which mostly sounded like fighting jungle cats.  
            “Barcode!” That was Alec.  Dean really needed to talk to the kid about his paranoia.  
            The scuffle stopped, and they were in the exact same position that Dean had last seen them, if a little more tussled. Clearly, Keegan hadn’t gained any advantage. She shot a glare up at Alec, before dropping her head, letting her hair fall forward. He began to move forward.  “You’d think you’d remember my scent.” Alec froze, the remark hitting him hard. He used his knee to pin the one arm he had against her back, and then pushed her hair aside…letting out a breath he seemed to be holding.  
            He let her go, and waited for her to stand and turn around.  Alec looked like a kicked puppy.  Keegan looked rather pissed. “I had to…”  
            Dean rolled his eyes; if he knew those two (and he did), they would snap at each other until the tension broke, and by god, he didn’t want to deal with that. “Just fucking kiss already!”  
            Keegan’s attention flickered to him for a second, but Alec grabbed her, cupping her face as he kissed her.  Neither one of them seemed to remember they were standing in the middle of the camp clearing after that.  
            Castiel gave Dean a very significant look. “Perhaps we should allow them to return to their quarters?”  
            “Uh…” Sam looked slightly uncomfortable. “Alec’s got hit with debris…They can take--” But Alec was already moving towards Sam and Dean’s quarters, holding Keegan’s hand.  
            Dean sighed, turning back to his _favorite_ angel. “What did she give up, Cas?”  
            Castiel frowned.  “Of that, I am unsure.  She gave up her link to the faerie lands and her Queen, Mab.  Not even Fate knows how this will unfold; I asked Them.”  
            No one was prepared for the pitch Sammy’s voice hit: “What?!” Dean frowned at him, a little miffed that he stole his outburst. However, Sam was already continuing. “That’s everything she is! That’s-”

             “There is much more to a person then whatever abilities they may garner from the being they owe their servitude.” Castiel interrupted, actually starting to look annoyed.  “If that were indeed the case, Sam Winchester, you would be Lucifer’s pet no matter what choices you made. Do not think Keegan less than you.”  
            Sam wasn’t done. “But Alec can work warding spells. We’ve done full exorcisms. I’ve seen others do purifications, devil’s traps, whatever we’ve set for them. Can she-”  
            “The extent of her abilities is not even known to Fate.” Castiel repeated.  
            Dean frowned. Vaguely, he heard the conversation continuing, but all he could concentrate on was that somehow, despite their best efforts, his family was _still_ getting fucked over by deities.  
            “Dean,” His gaze snapped up, and he forced himself to focus on Jo, who had joined Sam at his side. “Seriously, right now, we’re focusing on trying to pin a straight answer out of Cas. Come on.” She gave him a smile.

            Dean didn’t return it, instead looking back at Castiel, who was shifting uncomfortably at Ellen’s continual barrage of questions. “Honestly, woman, I do not know. Perhaps Keegan would, but I still do not.  That will not change no matter how many times you ask me.”  
            “Cas, you sound mildly irritated.” Dean remarked, smirking.  “I’ll make the question easy, so _you_ understand what Ellen’s getting at. You let Keegan, who was absolutely coo-coo-for-cocoa-puffs crazy, make a choice to give up something, without even knowing what she would be giving up. ”  
            Castiel gave him a Look, and damnit, Sam was _teaching_ people it now. “She was not insane. I cannot explain a journey of Self.”  
            Ellen glared at him.  
            Dean glanced back towards the dented metal of his bunker, and sighed. “We’re probably going to be waiting a while for those two. You’re welcome to stick around—Damnit. Fuck you too, Cas.” He glared at the spot where Castiel had been.  For an angelic warrior, the guy was a pussy when it came to giving up a straight answer.

***

            She was _here_.  She was back in his arms.  “I’m not letting you go.” Alec declared into the back of Keegan’s neck, nuzzling her barcode. She made a sleepy happy noise, and Alec sighed, pulling her tighter to him, trying to force away the dark unease that plagued him.  
            Keegan was back, and she was sane. But she came back different. She didn’t know she was right, that she _didn’t_ smell the same; she had lost part of her scent, a part even he couldn’t exactly identify.  And that was only the beginning. Keegan had been taken two weeks ago, but her hair and nails had grown as if she had been gone two months.  There were now faint  leopard spots just below her barcode, following her spine.  It reminded him of their journey to Tir’Nan’Og, where they had been able to see what the fey called their ‘true selves’. Her eyes, which had never settled on a color as long as he had known her, were gold-brown—like a  fox or cat.  He was surprised to find he didn’t miss the shifting.   It still didn’t stop the fact the changes unnerved him; they were transgenics, they weren’t _supposed_ to change.  Not that he hadn’t met a few that were able to shift their features or color, but the point was they were _designed_ for it.  Though, he supposed that they, as a species, would change quite a bit as they aged, perhaps even having unforeseen complications from their mangled DNA.  Now, _that_ would be a kicker.  
            “I look different.” It wasn’t a question, and it yanked Alec out of his mental rambling.

            “Uh…” Now, of course, his brain shuts up. “Fuck.”

            “Yeah. Fuck.”  Keegan shifted, starting to pull away.  
            “Keely, wait.” He tightened his arms, fully intending to make her teleport him with her.  There was an awkward moment as she shifted her weight, _expectation_ nearly tangible in the air. But nothing happened.  Keegan seemed to realize this, and struggled against his cuddle. “You can’t teleport.”  He said, unable to keep the shock out of his voice.  
            “Apparently I can’t get out of your bear hugs either!” There was forced laughter in her voice, but it didn’t hide the _saddnesssorrowlossangerwhyme_ that was under it.

            Alec threw his walls back up, loosening his grip on her. “You didn’t know?”  She shook her head, standing from the rather tussled bed.  Alec smirked, following her path with his eyes; he could watch her walk naked to the closet mirror all day.

            She caught his leering and rolled her eyes. “ _Alec._ ” She sighed, pulling at her eyelid to take a good look at her iris, before turning to try to see her back. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to.  But old habits and all that.”  Her voice was full of forced calm.  “Knew I could still do this,” She snapped, and an orange and yellow flame sprung around her thumb and forefinger, quite unlike her original green.  “Should thank Manticore for that, heh?” The flame sputtered and died as she looked back at Alec. “I was just trying to get back.”  
            “You could have stayed.”  He knew she could have, perhaps _should_ have.  It was the only other option she could have been presented with.  “Why did you give up centuries of your life?  Why did you give up everything you could do?”

            She turned bright red, and refused to look at him.  “I didn’t want to stay there.  Without you.”  
            Alec smiled, she was fucking adorable when she was embarrassed. “I would’ve followed you anywhere, baby.  Com’ere.” He leaned as far as he could, grabbing her round the middle, and literally dragging her back into the bed. “I mean it. This,” he placed her hand over his heart, “is yours.  That’s not changing this life time.  I love you.”

            She leaned back into him, cuddling into his arms. “I love you too, Alec.”  And they sat there, taking comfort in each other’s presence.

***

            Dean was just finishing up what was passing for his dinner when Alec and Keegan strolled into the mess hall.  He was just about to say something when Biggs leapt up and started clapping. Alec cuffed him as he walked past. “Hey! Someone had to celebrate the end of the longest period of celibacy a transgenic has ever willingly endured!”

            Dean wasn’t surprised Biggs was launched through the mess hall doors by Alec a second later. Keegan shook her head, moving up to Ellen to grab a bowl of soup. He stood, dropping his bowl in the dirty pile before heading after her.  “Glad you’re back, Kee.” She didn’t look surprised to find him taking a seat next to her.  
            “I’m glad to be back.  What happened?” She asked, gesturing with her spoon to the work crews.

            Dean chuckled. “Tornado.”  
            Keegan dropped her spoon. “You’re kidding.  And I missed it?”  
            “Be glad.” He said.  “It sucked.  We lost Brae.”  She frowned into her soup, looking rattled. With a loud bang, two very muddy figures reappeared in the mess hall doorway, and the longer-haired of the two headed towards the table, grabbing a napkin before sitting down next to Keegan. Ellen disdainfully dropped a bowl in front of him as he wiped his face and hands clean of mud. As soon as he was done, the soup was practically inhaled.  
            Keegan gave him a small sniff, and wrinkled her nose. “Have a fun testosterone fest?”  
            “Nearly _two_ fucking _years_ he got to make celibacy jokes. I am not dealing with that shit.” He looked sadly down at his now empty bowl, and hopefully at Keegan’s. She pulled it away, guarding it with an arm.  
            Dean sighed, “Keegan.” She looked right at him, at the same time, slapping Alec’s hand as he tried to steal her bowl. “I’m gonna need to know what happened to you.”  
            “Why?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’m back, right? We can all get back to your dream of a little, happy transgenic carnival.”  
            Dean rolled his eyes. “I just have a funny feeling. Something’s up.”  
            Alec let out a triumphant ‘hah!’. “See? You can’t yell at me anymore. The case for genetic paranoia is clear. I _inherited_ it.”  
            Dean grinned when Keegan smacked Alec across the back of his head.  Her presence eased some of the anxiety he had been feeling, but the dread still remained.  Maybe he was over reacting.  Either way, he needed to push it away and enjoy _now_. Who knew how long _now_ would last?


	4. Chapter 4

            “Have you seen Alec?” Sam’s voice crashed through his bubble of unconsciousness and forced him into the land of the waking.

            Dean hated him for it. “Sam…I was asleep. How the _fuck_ could I have seen Alec with my _eyes closed_?” He flopped himself over, shoving his knife off the mattress as he grabbed his pillow off the bed, forcefully shoving it over his head.  
            He thought he made his intentions clear. However, when he felt the bed dip with Sam’s weight, he knew Sam had somehow missed the point. “Are you really going to fall asleep on me?” There was something…off in Sam’s voice.  
            Dean reluctantly peered out from his pillow. “Is finding Alec really so fucking important right now?”  
            “Yes,” Sam admitted, reluctantly. “Generally he’s a little better at giving a hug when it’s needed.”  
            He couldn’t have heard that right. “…uh…” Right, there was a pillow on his head, that had to be interfering with his hearing. Fluff apparently screwed with transgenic hearing. “What was that?”  Sam huffed, and started to get up, but Dean grabbed his forearm, stopping him. “Hey, hey, hey, man. Seriously, dude, if you need I hug…I can give you a…hug.”  
            “You can barely say that with a straight face.” Sam accused, arching his eyebrow.

            Dean sighed, pulling himself into a sitting position and holding his arms out. Sam stared at him.  “Come on, Sammy.” He made a ‘come’ gesture.  “You said you needed a hug.” After another moment’s hesitation, he got a double armful of Sasquatch.

            “I never thought I’d have to go through this again.” Sam whispered, almost too low for him to hear. “I feel like part of me is missing, like it died with her.” 

            Dean held him tighter, feeling slightly awkward holding his longer limbed brother.  Well, if he was honest, he felt awkward holding anything that wasn’t female and of age. “You’re going to make it through this.  I’m not losing you too, Sammy.”  He gave him what he hoped was a reassuring shake.  “We’re not losing anyone else.”  
            Sam was quiet a long time. “…It’s so weird, you think once you’ve been through it you’re good.  You know what to do.”  He gave a mirthless laugh.  “It just hurts more.  Tears your heart open wider.”  
            Dean sighed.  “Yeah, it feels that way.”  Just another way for the universe to screw them over.

***

            The door to their newly rebuild bunker slammed open, and Keegan nearly singed off her eyebrows at the loss of control. “ _Fuck_ , Alec!” She said, hastily batting at the small fires her surprise had set.  
            Alec strode over and smothered the remaining flame with enough force to smash the already abused book through the aluminum desk. It hit the floor with a clang.  Keegan stared at him in horror. “That was _The Fellowship of the Ring_! That’s _sacrilege_!”  
            “I want to go out.” He grabbed her hands, a fierceness in his eyes that was tempered only with the desire that hadn’t quite left his eyes since she had returned. “I’d _like_ you to come with me…”  
            Keegan hesitated; beyond her still feeling odd (which she had hoped would have stopped by now, it had been a week), Alec was obviously agitated.  That meant he was looking for a fight, not something she was particularly fond of.  But, it would be easier to sway his mood if she was _there_ , so she nodded.  “Well I guess I better get dressed, considering this is the first date we’ve had in two years.”  She smiled at him, but she knew he wasn’t fooled.  
            Alec grabbed her chin, forcing their eyes to meet. “I know what you’re trying to do, but that’s not funny.” He could see her pain, her fear of his resentment.  He could guess why.  “We had _plenty_ of dates.  They just pretended to be regular nights.”  He grinned at her, and she attempted to hide her own.  Mission accomplished.  “Now, let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

***

            There was much work to be done in the camp, of that Ellen was certain. And she knew it wasn’t just fixing up the second rate rides or building booths for the games.  The very _people_ needed work.  She had been trying, but the past month had more drama than a soap opera.  Most of her time had been spent working on a way to find Keegan; the rest had been trying to bond with the resident pack. She was worried.  Dean didn’t seem to notice the growing problem, the sparks between the transgenics and the demonborne. Ellen knew where this this thing was headed, and she knew the cause.

            Ellen loved Alec, thought him just as much her son as the Winchesters, but he was perhaps the easiest to see it in.  Alec thought of humans as prey. She was sure of it.   
            On a training hunt when he was still Alec McDowell, what they had thought to have been a run of the mill ghost ended up being a rakshasa.  This, of course, rendered her iron knife and salt rounds useless, and Ellen had thought she was finally meeting the bloody end of a hunter, and poor, innocent Alec with her.  
            But Alec was never as innocent as she had first thought.  Once he realized he could harm the thing, he tore into it with an incredible ferocity. He had stunned it, and he turned, asking _how_ to kill it. It had taken her a few seconds to find her voice, by which the rakshasa was attacking again.  She had called out ‘brass’ but couldn’t be sure he heard her, and she—of course—had left her brass knife at home.   Truth be told, she lost track of him in the smoke and dust of the scuffle.  She caught sight of him just in time to see him punch through a wall. When he pulled his hand back, enclosed in his fist was a dripping, yellowish pipe—  
            It had taken Ellen a good thirty seconds to realize exactly what he did, during which he had thrust the pipe through the rakshasa’s chest , twisting it with a feral snarl, fangs bared.  When he realized she was watching him, he shifted his expression to something much more human, and launched into a babbling explanation about brass piping and heat conduction. And, she could swear he was _annoyed_ she hadn’t thought to punch through a wall and rip out the plumbing.  Ellen had seen the predator under the human face that Sam and Dean simply refused to see. Maybe because they weren’t prey.  
            It didn’t take long for Ellen to start seeing it in the DACs , AACs, X4s and obviously, the X5s. She suspected that the X6s and X8s were going to learn soon enough.  And TC didn’t have the added arrogance of the demonborne.  The camp just needed a spark to go up.

***

            It was like every other pub they had frequented, but that was perfect.  Keegan liked it, she thought, as she sat at the bar, chewing on the end of the brightly colored straw that had skewered the fruit in her whiskey sour.  Alec had already complained that her particular habit was extremely provocative, and that he was going to have to remind most of the bar who she was with.  He’d already snarled at the two hopefuls who had attempted whooing—by inebriation or stupidity, she wasn’t sure.  Either way, she had smacked him, and had _requested_ that he grab her a pack of cigarettes from the vending machine near the rest rooms.

            The patrons were still giving her a far berth, though many were blatantly staring.  She ignored it—they were designed to catch that type of attention--until she heard someone sniff.  Then felt someone come up beside her, settling onto the barstool that was where Alec had been perched. Keegan sighed, she so did not have the energy for this. “You smell good.”  
            She nearly choked on her whiskey. “Gods, that has got to be the _worst_ …” She trailed off, actually looking at her would-be suitor. He flashed her a half smile. “Shit, 496! You mother-fucking dick!”  
            He grinned, a very different expression on a familiar face.  “You _do_ smell good for someone who supposedly died four years ago.” He leaned in a bit, sipping his beer. “And its Felix now.”

            “Felix, huh?” Felix didn’t look surprised, turning to look at Alec, who appeared behind Keegan’s chair. He put a hand on her shoulder, almost possessively, and Felix snorted. Alec raised his eyebrows. “What?”  
            “That whole possessive mating thing’s true, eh?” They both nodded. “Fuck. I’m gonna have to start doin’ blood tests now. Oh, hey, I assume your name’s not Ms. I’m-Back-From-The-Dead.”  
            “Keegan’s fine.”  She answered in what she hoped was a dignified tone.  The way the two were snickering, it hadn’t worked.

            “So,” Alec said, grasping Felix’s arm in greeting, “You come in the last group?”

            “Got wind you might need a good mechanic.” Felix acknowledged, nose twitching.  “Hang on a second.” Keegan rolled her eyes. “Mmmm…she’s legal. Excuse me.” He turned, and both Alec and Keegan followed his gaze to a rather beautiful—though not transgenic beautiful—young blonde who had just walked into the bar.

            Now Alec rolled his eyes. “She’s _kachiku_.”  
            Felix shot him a wink over his shoulder. “And your point? Playing with my food.” He grinned. Alec looked positively disgusted.  
            Keegan smirked, elbowing him. “Hey, you weren’t much different just outta Manticore.” She reminded him.  
            Alec shot her a look.  “A, it was only for, like, a month and B, we’ve been out of Manticore _how_ long?”  
            She knew she had him. “I believe her name was Asha?”  
            He glowered at her. “She was less…livestock then the others.”  
            “And you didn’t seek out a transgenic because…” She knew she was pushing his buttons, and he knew it too.  
            He shrugged. “I blame it all on sexual frustration. That was never relieved, I might add.  Would make anyone crazy.” He took a swig of the scotch the bartender placed in front of him , “What are you going to say when he asks why you’re not dead?”  
            She bit her lip, and then tried to hide the tell by taking a sip of her drink. “I have no fucking clue.  It’s not like I even remember how I did it. How am I supposed to explain that?” She looked back down at the bar. “I barely remember the pieces of my life that made me _me_ , even those are gonna fade with time.  And one day, I’ll just be just Keegan Winchester, X5-105, and nothing of Tine Keegan Mac Aodhagáin ó naSíogaí will be left.”  
            Alec pulled her close into a one armed hug. “Well, you don’t have to be _just_ anything. You could be Keegan _Tine_ Winchester.” She pressed back against him, and he dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “How about you’re just mine for the evening?” He purred into her ear, grinning evilly. She laughed, and he smiled as he nipped at her ear.  
            “Glad to see you kids are having fun.” Felix grinned, flagging down the bar keep while settling down on the stool next to theirs.

            Alec loved his unit mate like a brother—they were both 49s,they practically _were_ brothers—but fucking _hated_ his timing.  “You’re cheap knock off not holding up?”  
            “Hormones in the milk.” He gave a slightly affected shudder, seemingly ignoring the way Alec was currently wrapped around Keegan. “So…I can see you two are busy.”

            “Really?” Keegan smacked his arm, and Alec rolled his eyes.  “Look, man, Keegan and I are the only mated pair in the camp.  Knock yourself out.”  
            “Well, thanks for the intel . You know me so _well_.” Felix smirked, dodging the napkin Keegan threw at him. “You kids have fun.  Don’t keep him out to late, sweetheart.” He gave Alec a two fingered salute, downing his drink with his other hand, and tossed a couple of bills on the table.  
            Alec shook his head, watching him wink at a few of the older women as he made his way out of the pub. “Ah, Felix. Well, the appliances will never be safe to touch again.”  
            Keegan looked confused. “I wasn’t aware we had appliances to begin with.”  
            “It’s gonna be a _blast_ when someone presses ‘start’ on the microwave, and the ferris wheel explodes.” He pulled her onto his lap, balancing his stool against the bar. “Now, I’m in the mood to get kicked out of a bar for something a little more _fun_ than brawling…” he muttered as he began kissing along her jaw line. “I’m betting it’ll take these guys another two hours and at least another layer of clothing before they’ll get the guts to do anything.”  
            Keegan giggled. “You _are_ in a rare mood.” She pulled away, grabbing her drink and his hand. “However, no matter what you’re in a tiff over—and you know it’s true,” she said, cutting him off, as he slid off the stool, “our cover is more important.” But her eyes were sparkling. “It’s like Covert Ops 200.”  
            Sometimes, Alec wondered how the hell he deserved this girl. “That sounds like a challenge…”

***

            Biggs wanted to hurt someone.  No, that wasn’t true. He wanted to hurt _Alec_ , but that would require actually answering the bartender’s plea to pick up the young couple to whom this phone belonged to.  
            Alec was lucky keeping their cover was important. Biggs hung up, growling to himself, and resisting the temptation the throw the cell phone through the wall. From behind him, Rani reached over, pulling him back against her chest.  
            “Alec needs a designated driver?” She asked.  Biggs sighed in response. “You really are his baby sitter.”  
            Biggs’ eyebrows shot up. “What?”  
            “You have to make sure he doesn’t get in trouble.” Rani smiled, shimmying over to him, her mood not dampened at all. “You’re infamously loyal.”  
            Biggs sighed. “Great. Infamously.” He couldn’t help the gasp that escaped his lips when Rani’s hand cupped the front of his boxers.  
            “Your CO’s not in any danger, right?”  Her stroking was _very_ distracting.  
            “Just…drunk and overly affectionate in a bar… _damn_.” Biggs let his head fall back.

Rani grinned, and removed her hand, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Well, I doubt Alec will mind if _you_ were getting overly affectionate right here.” And Biggs saw the absolute logic in that.  
            He ended up sending Sketchy—via hasty text message—to pick up Alec and Keegan.

***

            It was late…really, really late. And Dean was rather annoyed. Seriously.  Alec couldn’t hide forever. The fact that no one had seen him since that morning wasn’t worrying him; no one had seen Keegan either and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out where they were.  But, they weren’t in their bunk.  He tracked down Biggs, only to find him, well, mid coitus with one of the new X6s.  Neither of them seemed happy to see him.  And Dean wasn’t too happy when he found out where his clone had run off too.  
            Biggs wasn’t pleased to begin with, and Dean’s outburst only caused him to slam the door on him. And with the way Alec treated him, what else should he expect? All he could wait for was for Sketchy to bring the two of them home, hopefully with no tales of bar brawls or police calls.  
            It seemed like forever before he heard several doors slam shut, and the unmistakable sounds of Sketchy attempting to herd Keegan and Alec towards camp. Dean sighed, standing. He wasn’t looking forward to this, but it had to be done.  He couldn’t just shirk his responsibilities because he wanted to go get hammered. “Alec, come here.” He doubted Sketchy even heard him, but _they_ did. Keegan giggled a little bit, and stumbled, setting fire to the dry grass around her hands when she caught herself. Sketchy became _very_ preoccupied in putting out the flames. Alec seemed to be more steady on his feet, and made his way to Dean’s bunk.  
            Taking a second look at how glazed his eyes were, Dean started to second guess himself.  Then Alec snapped into a salute…minus three fingers. “494 reporting as ordered, sir.” There was no mistaking the distain in his voice.

            Dean glared at the middle finger salute, and Alec lowered it slowly, as if testing his patience.  Just what he needed.  “Where the fuck were you all day? Aside from getting shitfaced like some punk-ass-“  
            “Human?” Alec supplied, scathingly.  
            Dean glared at him, but Alec’s filter didn’t run on ‘inebriated’. “You can’t vanish all day. You have responsibility! You have a duty to this clan, to this carnival—“  
            “I never signed up to be a part of a fucking freak show!” Alec interrupted.  
            “Oh, yes you did, buddy. You jumped right in, you followed Keegan!”  
            “Don’t you _dare_ bring my _mate_ into this.” There was something dangerous in his voice…like he was on the edge of doing something, but even _he_ didn’t know what. “And it’s not like I had much of a choice; did you _want_ me to abandon my _mate_?”  
            Dean stared at him, just unable to puzzle him out. “I just don’t get you. One minute, you’re the model Soldier, best damned Hunter, fucking perfect annoying little brother, next you’re this fucking emo twat that hasn’t taken his bi-polar meds in weeks.”  Dean caught the barest hint of a sway from his younger brother as he caught himself on the couch. He was _gone_. “Alec, man, I’m not exactly sure this is the _best time_ to be having this conversation.  Bunk down and sober up.”

            “Why the fuck should I listen to you?” Alec slurred, glaring.  “You abandon all of us because _Sammy has a boo boo._ ”

            Dean _really_ wanted to punch the _shit_ out of his clone.  “Tanya _died_.  You know, his _mate_?”

            “And that means you have to rock him to sleep every night like a fucking _infant_? That you two can just check out and expect us to fall back in line like little ducks?”  Alec exploded, throwing his arms down. “Why don’t you get your head out of your ass and do what _you_ signed up for!”  
            There was a long silence, and he had no response.  Alec continued his accusing glare, and Dean just sighed. “What do you want me to say, Alec?”  
            “I want you to tell me why you keep going on and on how we’re _family,_ but you can ignore the fact your _adopted_ sister was fucking missing for _two weeks.”_ Alec’s voice was trembling, there were tears in his eyes.  “You only give a shit about _real_ Winchesters.”

            Dean stood there, the words a physical blow, but Alec didn’t wait for him to recover, vanishing out into the night despite being drunk off his ass.  The deep feeling of dread returned.

***

            _Something went down last night_ , Ellen found herself thinking as she watched the transgenics eat their breakfast.  Alec handed in a list of every transgenic and their skill set at 7am sharp, and then sat down around the fire pit, where a good majority of the said transgenics were already seated, eating a flank that was roasting on a spit, and smelled of charred venison. It didn’t surprise her that Alec hunted when he was upset. His daddy did the same thing.  
            Ellen closed her eyes, surprised at both the thought, and how much she missed John Winchester. Despite what she _knew_ , she couldn’t ever imagine Alec as not being one of John’s. In that same vein, she wasn’t sure, with what she knew of Mary, how _she_ would react to the thing that was her youngest child. She wondered if Alec thought about it, if Alec even knew their names…identified them as _his_ …  
            Did any of them, she wondered, looking at them all; they suddenly looked so much younger. One of the new arrivals—Felix, according to the list Alec gave her—jostled Biggs as he took his seat on Alec’s left. They were all laughing about it, but even their laughing sounded more like barks, or hyena yips. She was witnessing something not even Manticore had been able to see: X-series soldiers without the pretense of being human. She doubted they realized how much they had been pretending.  
            Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement; the two new demonborne staring at the clustered group with a look typically reserved for heinous crimes and animal mutilations. Without a word, she grabbed them both by the ears and dragged them inside. They had just pulled lavatory duty.


	5. Chapter 5

            This was not the way to start the day, “Dude, you have your own bed.” Sam, none too happy to have his teddy bear _talking_ , rolled over, effectively stealing all of the blankets Dean had so carefully stockpiled, leaving Dean’s boxer-clad body to the chilly morning air.  
            With a huff, Dean stood, grabbing one of the warm blankets from Sam’s grasp, and flopping down on Sam’s bunk.  The mattress was ice cold and smelled of Tanya. Dean swallowed hard. Yeah, maybe he didn’t really have the bed anymore.  It had been hard sleeping in Leah’s scent until eventually, the sharp pain had subsided into a dull ache. Sam was avoiding that closure.  
             On that lovely thought, Dean gave a heaving sigh, resigning himself to not getting back to sleep; he stood up, and started getting dressed. By the time he was out the door, Sam was unconscious again. However early he thought it was, he was at the tail end of chow. The rest of the camp was sitting around the fire pit, with a pile of used dishes behind them. Dean stood there a moment, staring, and wondering exactly _when_ everyone had decided to abandon their ‘we’re not getting up till we feel like it’ attitude. But, as Ellen caught sight of him and started to stride over, he realized the answer was obvious. “Ellen.”  
            “Glad you got your lazy ass outta bed. I’ve already got jobs divvied up, and apparently Alec’s unit took care of breakfast.” She made a face. “If you plan on putting his heckles up again, get used to venison for breakfast.”  
            Dean raised his eyebrows, torn between amusement and disgust. “Venison? Alec killed Bambi?”  
            “And gutted him, and skinned him.” Alec snapped, and Dean spun to see him standing just behind him. His expression was off, and the entire thing had a _Children of the Corn_ feel to it. Dean suppressed a shudder.  
            “Dude, poaching could get us in trouble with the locals, and we don’t need that.” It was logical, at least, Dean thought it was.  Apparently, that was up for debate.  
            “Maybe _we_ don’t listen to _you_.” Alec’s voice dropped to that dark growl Dean was becoming all too familiar with. “ _Kachiku ashimoto ni ki o tsukete._ ”  
            As Alec stalked off, Dean looked to Ellen, running a hand through his hair, completely confused. “Did he just tell me to fuck off?”  
            Ellen made a face. “I’ve heard them use that ‘ka-cheek’ word before, usually when you or Sam were around and they were talking about us.” She rolled her eyes when he sputtered in confusion. “Dean, as much as you’d love to think this clan is one big happy family, the transgenics is a breed apart. They’re _not_ human, and even the demonborne treat them as if they’re…well, monsters.”  
            Dean frowned. “I have never-”  
            “Of course you haven’t, Dean.  You didn’t want to.”  
            Dean felt like she had punched him in the gut. “It _can’t_ be that bad.”

            Ellen fixed him with a hard look.  “It can and it _is_ , you idjit.”  
            He sighed, looking towards the small, segregated groups working on setting up the various aspects of the carnival. “How did all of this go so wrong?”  
            It was only when Ellen placed a hand on his shoulder that he realized he had spoken that out loud. “We can get it back on track. Oh, and you’ll need this.” She handed him an old, worn, and rather thick book.  
            Dean looked at it with mild disgust. “What’s this for?”  
            “ ‘Ka-cheek’ sounded asian. Bobby spoke Japanese, and I kept some of his old books. I figure you can start there.” She smiled at him. “Better you then me, with all that advanced transgenic learning and all.”  
            Dean glowered at her.

***

            “I got you a ride mechanic.” Dean looked up from cleaning his Colt 1911, half surprised that Alec was intentionally talking to him. And wished he hadn’t. Alec was standing in the doorway next to his twin in inverse: the male had ebony hair, pale skin, and dark eyes.  He was even smiling, a stark contrast to Alec’s scowl.  The newcomer looked between them, eyebrows raised and looking sort of amused.  
            This entire thing was supposed to throw him off, and it was working.  Dean gave himself a little shake, “And this is…”  
            “Felix.” Alec supplied, as ‘Felix’ stuck out a hand for Dean to shake. He was big; the dude’s hands were nearly the size of Sam’s.  
            Felix seemed to know what he was thinking. “Black bear in my cocktail. Best nose around.” He punctuated the statement with a sniff.  Dean offered a half smile.  
            “He has a way with machines.” Alec said, shooting a glare at Felix, who made a face. Dean was sensing a history beyond looking like…him.  And that he was being dumped with a trouble maker. He was really starting to question how much control over this camp he actually had. “He’ll get those rides working.” Alec said, starting on his way out, and giving a nod to Felix, who looked bored now that he wasn’t being reprimanded.  
            “Uh, thanks?” Dean said, layering dark sarcasm into the words.

            Alec snickered. “I wouldn’t let his modifications too close to any inspections…” Slapping a couple fingers on the door jam, he gave a cocky smile, and slipped the rest of the way out of the security office.  
            Felix was grinning when Dean looked over at him, and didn’t quite hide it quick enough. “What? I make them work. No one said they were a hundred percent _safe_. And I’ll also argue those were live combat scenarios.” He caught Dean’s eye and added a hasty, “Sir.”  
            Dean frowned. “Designation?”  
            Felix’s familiar face clouded over. “X5-496.”  
            “Another clone?” He paused, peering closer at Felix. “How many did Manticore make?  And should I be flattered?”  
            “Well, if the narcissism is inherited, than, yeah.  Flattered. I’d be.” He shrugged. “Made a whole cloning line.”  
            Dean wasn’t exactly sure what he was feeling at the moment.  “A whole…” He shook himself.  “Ok, so, like, are you…?”  
            Felix took a step back, hands raised. “I don’t do that ‘family’ bullshit.” He gave Dean a hard look. “I’m _not_ your brother, your cousin, your nephew, nothin’. Just happen to have a familiar face, you got me?”  
            Dean stared at him, a little shocked, but found his voice quickly. “Yeah.”  
            “Good.” He sniffed. “Now, if you excuse me, I have to go check in with your resident nurse about some tests…” He grinned, snapping a sloppy salute, and headed towards the door. “Oh, by the way, great to meet you, Dean.”  
            Transgenics—specifically the ones cloned from him—were going to be his death.

***

            “Oh come on! Just get on it!”  
            Alec looked at the scrambler, and then back at Felix, really regretting appointing him mechanic. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’m not sure it will hold my weight.”  
            Felix glared at him. “This thing is rocket proof!” To demonstrate his point, he reached out a grease stained hand and shook the main support. The entire structure shook. Alec looked at Felix. Felix offered a cocky smile. “Rocket proof. I swear.”  
            “I’ll do it.” Alec _really_ wished he had stuck with his first idea of tying Keegan to the bed this morning, but she was already unhooking the security device on one of the cars and pulling herself in. She never _did_ have common sense.

            “Not to be a dick, but you’re not immortal, babe.”  
            She glared at him. “I doubt it’s even going to work.” She argued as Felix sputtered indignantly.  
            “Awesome!” At this point, Alec was pretty sure it was a lost cause, since Biggs had launched himself into another of the cars, careful to balance out Keegan. Only then did he look at Felix and Alec. “It’s cool, right?”  
            “ _I’m_ trying to get people to test it.” Felix said, shooting an amused glare at Alec.

            Alec threw up his hands. “You people want to kill yourselves, fine with me. Well, no, not fine with me, Keegan, come.” He said, pointing to the ground next to him. Both Felix and Biggs burst into laughter as Keegan sat there, glaring. Yeah, he hadn’t really expected that to work. “Keely, please?”  
             Felix shook his head.  “I don’t know how you ever get laid.”  Alec glared at him.  Biggs was laughing too hard to weigh in.  
            “Holy shit, does this thing work?” Rani didn’t wait for an answer, instead hopping into the car in front of Biggs’, and letting Felix secure the safety. “Am I going to die?”  
            “Well, yes, eventually.  But not from this.” Felix winked at her. “Trust me.”  
            Alec rolled his eyes, “Keegan, seriously.  I’d like breakfast.  Hey, I’ll _make_ breakfast.”  Denim had a very distinctive smell when it was aflame, and he had _really_ hoped he wouldn’t be scenting it quite so soon.  “Are you kidding me?”  And, yep, his pants were on fire.  He tripped as he smothered the flames, sprawling face-first into, of course, an open car.  
            “Buckle up, Alec.” Felix said, moving towards the controls.  
            It was a lost cause, a dead horse, and any other cliché one wanted to add.  Alec sighed.  “Just let me get myself buck-”  He hit the back of the seat with an ‘oof’ as Felix jerked the ride into motion. After the initial swing, the ride evened out.  A minute went by, and he was actually starting to relax. Then he heard the machine shift gears. “Felix!?” He yelled, but he just had a vague impression of being flung towards the transgenic before the Scrambler suddenly did something he was damned sure it wasn’t supposed to do and decided to go vertical.  
            Two minutes later, the ride had slowed, and Felix was _still_ trying to stop laughing.  
            Alec was less than amused.  “I like rides, Felix. But I want to _know_ what I’m getting on. And you can’t let the _kachiku_ on that.”  He frowned as he stepped down from the ride; his legs weren’t working right.  “Seriously.”  _Fuck_ , he _never_ got motion sick.  
            Felix looked slightly put out. “It wasn’t for them. I was havin’ fun. For us.  But…yeah, maybe I shoulda kept it on ‘medium’.” His eyes sparkled, and the smirk appeared again. “Wanna go again?”  
            He sincerely hoped his glare conveyed everything he was wishing upon his clone.  The way Felix launched into even more laughter suggested otherwise.

***

            “It doesn’t take twenty minutes to get a bucket of water, Matt.” Rose snapped, wiping sweat from her brow as she glared across the mess hall at the young, dark-skinned kid. He didn’t answer. “Yo! Matt!”  
            “Do you see this?” he asked, his voice low.  
            Rose had half a dozen smart ass answers on her tongue before she realized he wasn’t really talking to her. She stood, wiping her paint stained hands on equally stained jeans while crossing over to the open entry way.  
            Outside, a few of the transgenics were sparring under Ellen, Dean and Alec’s watchful gaze. Rose knew the drill: Dean was putting everyone through the same paces that his dad put him through, and Ellen was there to make sure that he never pushed them too far. Alec had taken to haunting the practices, and no one was quite sure why. Rose was just about to say that this was pretty much par for the course—he should know, he had been here the past two weeks—when Alec got tired of pacing around the outside of the ‘ring’. He strode right into the middle of the sparring battle of Sam and Biggs—ignoring both Ellen and Dean’s sputtered warnings—and caught Sam’s fist, sending him sprawling backwards. Somehow, Biggs had seen Alec, and come up into a perfect military ‘At Ease’ stance.  
            “This isn’t training _us_.” Alec was putting deliberate emphasis on the word, and, after a moment’s hesitation, extended a hand to Sam, pulling him back up to his feet. “And it’s not showing _you_ what you are.” He started to walk away.

            Sam shrugged and then Alec’s fist was in his face. Only Sam had stepped back and blocked—at least, that’s what Rose thought happened, she hadn’t actually been able to see their movements.  Sam looked surprised, and, by the looks on Dean and Ellen’s faces, the point had been made.  Alec glanced towards Rose, and she felt the fear she thought she had gotten over back at the Familiar Prison rise up all over again. But it was _Alec_. The same guy who stole her a prom dress when she had confessed one night how sad she had been to miss hers. The one who had cried when she had convinced him to watch _Sixteen Candles_ with her. She squashed the fear down, disappointed with herself.  
            “They’re fucking freaks.” Matt whispered, shaking his head, his face a mixture of horror and disgust.  
            Rose ghosted through him, the weakness upon returning to her physical body completely worth the horror when he looked at her. “Remember what you are. And remember how you got to be that. They never asked for any of this. _We_ got screwed over by our parents.” She stomped back to her sign, picking up the paint brush, and looking back at the gothic swirls that announced their little freak carnival. “Now get that damned water bucket.”

***

            Dean was _done_.  He should have been done a week ago, but, damn.  This was it.  “Alec!  You never showed for practice!” Alec continued to walk on, ignoring him. “Hey, I said-”  
            “I heard.”  
            Dean wanted to punch him. “Look, can’t we at least _try_ to-”  
            “No.”  
            Dean blurred in front of Alec, grabbing his t-shirt and hauling him within inches of his own face. “I am _sick_ of this _bullshit_ , Alec. If you’ve got a problem with me, you tell me to my _face_ , not sneak around like some _coward_.” He dropped him, half surprised with his own ferocity.  
            Alec just glared at him from under his eyelashes; a distinctly animal anger seething in his eyes.  
            It didn’t occur for Dean to question his instinct then—with a snarl and speed he wasn’t aware he possessed he had Alec on his back, one hand on his throat, the other keeping his upper body pinned to the ground. Alec’s eyes were wide with shock, and he fought to catch his breath, the wind knocked out of him. Dean’s fingers tightened on his throat, preventing it.  It was a battle of wills, and Dean knew who _had_ to win.  
            The two whole minutes it took for Alec to tilt his head back and bare his throat felt like a life time. Dean felt like he had picked up his torture tools again to strangle his brother—but he released his grip slowly, and with a low growl, letting Alec know he wasn’t off the hook, and that he remembered very well how long Alec could hold his breath.  
            As soon as Alec was free of his grasp, the transgenic rolled onto his stomach and curled into a ball. Perhaps he had miscalculated a bit. “Alec…” He started, reaching towards him. Alec flinched away. Dean ignored it and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Bro…”  
            “See? You’re making us weak.” Alec mumbled from inside his fetal position. “I’ve never…shown throat. Dick.”  
            Dean bit his lip, trying to keep his amusement in check.. “At least you’re speaking to me now.”  
            For a whole minute Alec was a silent transgenic ball. Then: “This is _wrong_.”  
            “Then tell me what to do to fix it.  You know, communication.”  Dean sighed.  “I can’t do this by myself.”  There it was, out in the open.  
            It was a long time before Alec unrolled himself.  “Dean, I can’t help.  The demonborne and me…don’t think we’re ever gonna _not_ rub each other wrong.”  He sighed.  “I can’t tell you how to fix that.”

Dean sighed, offering a hand to Alec, pulling him to his feet.  “You at least gonna try?”  The silence wasn’t comforting.  



	6. Chapter 6

LOCATION UNKNOWN

            “It’s time.” The voice was everything he hated, from the soft plat-plat of blood dripping onto the floor to the grating of gravel against a motorcycle as the driver lost control, but he nodded anyway.  
            To disobey was death. “Of course. I will begin the necessary—“  
            “There is no need.” Breaking glass and nails on a chalk board wrapped in the last pitiful cries of a wounded doe. “They are already breaking.”  
            He nodded again. To disobey was death.

***

            “I don’t think I can do this.” Jo sounded absolutely petrified. She was even shaking.

Dean frowned, trying to calm his own nerves.  Two long months had transformed the slightly military looking camp into a canopied mass that did a group of traveling gypsies proud. The carnival itself was up and running, the few rides whirring away while the patrons chatted and laughed.  That part was surprisingly easy.  
            Getting the performers onstage in the slightly musty smelling main tent on the opening night was the real problem. It wasn’t like they were a circus—Dean had figured most of the time, people would want to do their own thing—but he had counted on at least a _few_ of the transgenics being attention whores like Alec. He hadn’t expected pretty much every one of them to hide, volunteer for any job that _didn’t_ require them to be in the spot light.    
            Plastering the biggest grin he could, Dean straightened the ridiculous vest that Sam had found in some hippie thrift shop and winked at Jo. “You’ll do fine.” He said out of the corner of his mouth. “And now, Sharp Shootin’ Jo!” He hated every fiber of his being.  
            In the back of the cramped tent that only fit maybe ten people in the audience, he caught sight of Sam, leaning against one of the supports, trying not to laugh at Jo’s miserable expression. He was doing this for them, for his pack. “That was Sharp Shootin’ Jo! Fastest Gun in the Chimera Carnival…and trust me, that’s sayin’ something!”

***

            “I swear, those kids are just _begging_ to be caught.” Felix muttered, elbowing Biggs from his position by the Ferris wheel.

            Biggs glanced up from his magazine to scan the crowd of humans and easily spotted the four teenagers, wobbling around on legs that looked more like they belonged on a storm-tossed ship deck then solid ground. “Sure you can’t just smell the alcohol from here?” He asked, turning back to the magazine. A second later, skunk-y smelling smoke hit his nose, and he couldn’t smell anything but _that_. Waving a hand in front of his face, he glared at Felix, who grinned around the hand rolled cigarette. “I should have guessed.”  
            “Can’t really smell much of anything at the moment.” He agreed.  
            “Are you _serious_?” Felix and Biggs turned to face Dean, attempting to look innocent. Dean didn’t seem to buy it. “Felix, is that..?”  
            “Long Bottom Leaf, finest weed in the South Farthing.” Felix said proudly in his best British accent (which was actually quite good). Biggs rolled up the magazine and hit him with it. Dean grabbed the joint and made to snuff it out, but Felix was too quick. “Dude! That stuff’s expensive!”  
            Dean resisted the urge to punch this other really annoying clone. “You’re _working_.”  
            Felix waved him off. “Please. I could do this in my sleep.”  
             Dean looked to Biggs, who just raised both hands. “I have no opinion.”  
            “Lovely.” Dean glared at Felix. “I catch you with that again when we’re open, and you’ve got hell to pay.”  
            “Are we talking Hell-hell? Or, like, figurative hell? Cause I only just learned about the real one, and I kinda think it’s cruel and unusual punishment to just send me there for-”

            Biggs shoved the rolled up magazine into Felix’s open mouth like a gag, smiling. “You got it, Boss.”  
            Dean quickly hid his smile. “Thanks. Now, I came over here looking for Alec…”  
            “I think he was escorting some drunk meatheads out last I saw. Possibly relieving them of their wallets too.” Felix said, spitting out the magazine and fiddling with some of the Ferris wheel controls. Biggs wandered over to the waiting line, and escorted a group of four into the waiting gondola. “They got pretty rowdy at Keegan’s little fire spinning show. Think he needed the action.”  
             “I can understand that.” Dean sighed, leaning against the railing next to Felix. “I miss hunting.”  
            “Then you should come with tonight.” He ignored the look Dean shot at him. “Deer are out in force, and, to be honest, for someone designed in stealth, you could use the practice of a good stalk and kill.”  
            Dean gave a shaky laugh, watching Biggs attempt to coax a very frightened four year old off the ride—she was holding up the entire line. “Not the kind of hunting I meant…”  
            “I know.” Dean turned, catching Felix’s brown eyes for the first time since the conversation began. “Look, any idiot can see that you love your family. Alec’s your little brother, even if you two aren’t on the best of terms. Now, I gotta admit, seeing someone else as Alpha is a bit weird, considering he was my commander for most of my life…but I like you.” He paused, catching Biggs’ thumbs up and moving the gondolas along to take on the next group of passengers. “Dean, if you want some helpful—and completely unsolicited—advice from a fellow grease monkey, here: stop being so god-damned _kachiku_. You’re a transgenic; you’re _better_ than them. Not that there’s anything wrong with the ones here…they’re…I dunno. But _we_ were bred to be hunters, trackers, _assassins_. We’re not meant to be babied or treated like fragile human children, like rabbits.” He gave a shrug. “But remember, I’m stoned, so I could just be talking out my ass.”  
            “Yeah, right.” Dean grumbled.  There was that _word_ again.  
            “Alec radioed in. The drunk kids are about to get on the Gravitron.” Biggs said, jogging up to them. Dean took that moment to face palm himself.  
            “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Fucking hilarious, but not good.” Both Biggs and Dean turned to look at Felix. “What? It’ll be hilarious to watch the drunk kids vomit and get hit with it when it flies back in their faces…but not fun to clean up.”  
            Dean snorted, Felix was starting to grow on him. “What did you do to it?”  
            Felix grinned. “You pull more gs than the coaster.”  
            “Yeah, thanks, MacGyver.” Alec snapped, literally storming across the midway, sounding _beyond_ annoyed. Felix took that as his cue to start snickering.  
            Dean groaned. “They-”  
            “Made it onto the Gravitron. Rani apparently didn’t notice how drunk the high school football team was.” He didn’t look amused. “Felix, for the record, I hate your mechanical improvisations.”  
            “I made your bike go faster.” He sputtered, looking hurt.  
            Alec glared. “And explode. With me on it. When I hit the _brakes_.”  
            Felix looked honestly confused. “Who the _fuck_ uses the brakes?”  
            For a moment, Dean thought Alec was going to level his taller clone right there. Instead, he turned towards him.  “Dean, can I _please_ beg off early? I have had it to fucking _here_ with drunk people, and the next one I meet, I swear, I’m going to slit their throat so they can’t consume any more alcohol.”  
            Dean patted him on the shoulder. “Well, when you put it like that, sure Alec. Go back to camp. Can’t have you murdering the patrons.” Alec flashed him what may have been an attempt at a smile, and moved off.  
            Apparently giving Felix ideas. “In that case, can I go back to camp if I told you I rigged the Himalaya ride to explode?”  
            Dean and Biggs stared at Felix for a long time. “I’m trying to decide if he’s serious.” Dean said.  Biggs nodded.  Felix kept his face neutral.  
            “He is.” Alec called, over his shoulder. “The guy’s fucking MacGyver for a reason.” Felix grinned.  
            Dean shoved a finger in his face. “You do _not_ get an extra cookie for cool explosive work.”  
            Felix’s face fell. “Aw man.”  
            “And you stay as long as Biggs stays.” Dean said, turning to head back towards the other rides. 

            He should have known Felix wasn’t done.  “Well, what if I threatened to blow Biggs up?”  
            He glanced back in time to see Biggs steal Felix’s joint.  He light it, and took a drag before shoving it in Felix’s face. “Just get back to work, dumbass.” Dean rolled his eyes, and continued on his rounds.

***

            “Keely?” Alec peered around the side of the tent, following the scent of lavender to the small tub behind their tent that he had rescued for their use.  
            Keegan was sprawled in the glorified metal bucket, surrounded by bubbles and steam. At the sound of his voice, she tilted her head back, giving him a small smile. “Hey.”  
            Alec raised his eyebrows. “Where the fuck did you get hot water?”  She rolled her eyes, and placed her hands on the metal tub, under the water. The tub on the outside started to glow a warm, red, and the water itself started to steam. Alec chuckled. “That’s a bit too hot for me.” She shrugged, letting go of the sides. “Dean let me off early. Those damned drunken scum bags…” He trailed off, eyes following the trail of several drops of water as she stood. However, as she turned to reach for her towel, he caught sight of her back. He grabbed her wrist, preventing her from wrapping the towel around herself.  
            Keegan glanced up at him, startled. “Can I get out of the tub first?”  
            “There are a lot more spots now, Keegan.”  He fought to keep his voice calm.  
            She avoided his eyes. “Really?”  
            Alec cocked an eyebrow. “Keely, as adorable as you are when your flustered, why do you feel the need to lie to _me_ of all people? Not like I can _tell_ or anything.”  
            Keegan pulled away from him, wrapping the towel around herself and covering a majority of the spots in the process. Alec frowned. “I have no idea why they’re showing up. Cera’s already taken samples.” She tried to brush past him, but he caught her around the waist, burrowing his nose into the nape of her neck and upsetting the bun she had pulled her hair into.  
            “Hey, I’m just worried about you.” He purred, smiling into her neck. To his surprise, she pulled away from him, the barest growl escaping. Alec took a step back. “Keely?”  
            “Stop worrying so much.”  
            Alec was left standing just outside their tent, completely dumbfounded. After a long moment, he shrugged, and went inside, just in time to see her slipping into her underwear. He leaned against one of the supports, and watched her go through the motions of getting dressed. “What did I do?”  
            “You put those two kids in an ambulance.” She said it quietly, with her back to him. He frowned. “The ones who disrupted my fire show? Gods, you don’t even remember.”  
            Alec frowned again—and he was going to get lines like Sam if he kept doing that—and stepped closer to Keegan. “No, I remember. They _touched_ you. So what if I put them in hospital? You’re my _mate-_ ”  
            “ _Damnit_ , Alec, I can take care of myself!” Keegan whirled on him, fangs bared. “Ever since I came back, you’ve been so possessive! I was a warrior before you were born, and just because you’ve got alpha issues-”  
            “Wait, I’ve got _what_?” He chose to ignore the way his voice cracked. “First of all, I don’t have ‘alpha whatever’ and secondly, even if I did how would they be effecting you?!” He demanded, shadowing her. She got frustrated with his crowding within seconds and shoved him. He went with it, catching her wrists and pulling her flush against him. “Tell me.”  
            “Stop smothering me.” She growled, trying to pull back. Alec didn’t budge. Her expression turned resigned. “The guy grabbed _me_. You didn’t even give me a chance to defend myself!”  
            “I…” He raised his eyebrows. “You _wanted_ me to let you beat up that guy?”  
            “You had other responsibilities! Didn’t Sam ask you to keep an eye on Matt?” As her words washed over him, he loosened his stance, allowing her to step away. She didn’t. “It’s like I’m too weak and fragile to do anything. I didn’t give up my fighting skills, or strength, or training. I gave up my powers that were driving me insane!” She stepped away, tears glittering in her eyes.  
            And Alec let her. “So you don’t want me to be overprotective?” He couldn’t help it: he laughed. Her face hardened. “Fuck, then stop acting like you’re invincible. Keely, baby, you’re not.” She made an affronted noise which he ignored. “You’ve said all this shit about holding your own, and usually I wouldn’t doubt you. I was your CO for _how_ many years? But you’ve been off your game since you’ve gotten back-”  
            “Maybe because _you’ve_ been all over me!”  
            “You know, _some_ girls would take that as a _compliment_.” He said through clenched teeth.  
             Keegan was making that half lip curl again, “Then go find those girls.”  
            Alec stared at her for a moment, the venom in the rather weak comeback numbing him for a second. And then he shoved her wrists away, refusing to be upset by the red marks left by his hands, and took a step back. “Gods, if I wanted a conversation like this, I could have just stayed in Terminal City. With Max.” He snarled. “Should I start worrying about you developing a thing for guys you can’t touch?”

            He regretted the words almost instantly…but this was _Keegan_ \--and _damn_ that woman knew how to push his buttons: “No, I think you should worry about coming home and finding me gone.”  
            The rational side of Alec’s brain knew that, as mates, they weren’t even sure that was possible. The rational side knew she was goading him because he had seriously crossed the ‘ex-girlfriend’ line. The rational side knew that she had just as much chance of following through with that threat as Dean would paint the Impala pink and start selling Mary Kay.  
            However, the Irrational side of Alec’s brain was in control at that moment and he managed to make a few attempts at words before he registered that Keegan had given up with the ‘verbal communication’ thing and was throwing a punch at him. This was probably due to the fact he had lunged forward and caught her wrist again, to prevent her from leaving right then and there. Coming back to himself, he blocked it, and just barely deflected the kick aimed to his exposed ribs.  
            His brain caught up to the situation. “Keegan, you don’t need to prove you can take care of your ooof!!” He doubled over as her fist connected with his solar plexus in four quick one-inch punches. Martial Arts training…he had forgotten she had taken advanced classes. He shifted, waiting for her usual kick—he _knew_ her style, it was coming—and caught her knee, jamming her up and using her leg to press her back, tripping her up against their bed. He let go.  
            She pin wheeled her arms for a moment and then collapsed backwards onto the bed, face surprised and slightly sour. But Alec was already moving in, pinning her down before she realized the fight was still on.  
            “Hmmm. Is that…arousal I scent?” he asked, unable to help himself. Keegan blushed, and went with what she apparently thought was ‘dignified silence’. He sighed, why did everything have to be so damned difficult? “Would it help any if I said I knew you were capable and I’m just…”He trailed off, not really wanting to say it, and instead, grinding his hips down, which, rather pleasantly, rubbed the growing erection in his pants against her groin. Her scent grew musky again, and Alec met her eyes again. He knew the conversation wasn’t over—he was male, and she was just so…  
            “Alec…”There was pleading in her tone, and he paused—which was when she bucked her hips and nearly unseated him.  
            “Nice try.”  
            The glare she gave him really shouldn’t have had the reaction it did. “Fuck you.”  
            “Damnit, Keegan!” He stood, using one hand to tuck himself into the waistband of his boxers.

Keegan sat up, still glowering at him. “I’m part of your pack, Alec, and we’re mated, but _gods_ you’d think its cause we’re equal on some level.”  
            Alec face palmed; he couldn’t help it. “What the hell do I have to say here?”  
            She looked defeated.  
            Alec _felt_ defeated.  
            It was a long time before she spoke again. “This sucks. I suck at talking. I wish I could just—“ She gestured (flailed was probably more accurate) but he figured she meant something along the lines of the telepathy they had once shared.  
            He couldn’t help the small smile that crept over his lips. She _did_ suck at the whole talking thing. After spending generations able to just think a thought into someone’s head, who could blame her? Slowly, he moved and sat next to her on the bed. After waiting five minutes; an extraordinary show of patience for him, he knew she wasn’t going to start talking again on her own. “So…putting those drunks in hospital was…not good and sexy?” She gave him a look. He sighed. “Keegan, I have never thought of you as less than my equal.” He said. “I…can’t lose you again. I can’t imagine what the last two years have been like for you, but give me a little emotional leeway. I had your defenseless shell—which was still _you_ by the way, and got into a stunning amount of trouble. I love you, and I can’t…I’m repeating myself.” He shifted uncomfortably and risked a glance sideways. Keegan was giving him an odd sort of look. “What? Ok, I admit, I’m not so good at this either.”  
            “I just…”She started, and he glanced back at her. “I don’t like being…”  
            “Pampered?” She swatted at his arm as she cuddled against him. Alec counted it as a win. “Protected?”  
            “Sequestered. Smothered. Like you’re my dad.”  
            Alec’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, your dad?” He grabbed her, and went for her ribs, tickling. She squirmed, trying to get away, but he pulled her tighter to him. “Am I still acting like your dad?”  
            She smiled, wrapping her arms around him. “No…but that doesn’t get you off the hook.” She teased, pulling him into a kiss.  
            He didn’t let her break it, instead, lifting her so she was on his lap, straddling his legs. Slowly, he broke the kiss, resting their foreheads together. “I swear, one of these days I’ll figure it out.” He said, slipping his hands under her shirt. She leaned into him, her nails scratching up along his barcode. He growled, nibbling at her neck.  
            Keegan was working on the buttons of his shirt, and he vaguely thought about leaning back to give her room to work, but now that this was _finally_ happening—and she wasn’t mad at him, another big plus—he wasn’t planning on letting her go any time till the carnival opened tomorrow.  
            “Am I interrupting?”  
            His only saving grace was that Keegan gave the same growl of frustration that he did as Dean’s voice broke through the bubble that had been surrounding them. He felt Keegan drop her head to his shoulder, and forced himself not to do the same. Instead, he looked up and met Dean’s dark jade eyes. “Why, yes, Dean. You are. Leave.”  
            Dean rolled his eyes, and carefully avoided looking at Keegan. “I figured since you were so homicidal back at the faire grounds you’d want in on the hunt.”  
            Keegan made that frustrated noise again. Alec really wished his ‘brother’ had better timing. “No, no. I’m good.”  
            “I kinda figured.” Dean said, looking awkward.  
            “Then why the fuck did you come in?!” Alec demanded.  
            Keegan, with her face still buried in Alec’s shoulder, gave a muffled “Is this really important?”  
            Dean made another awkward face. “Uh, you two weren’t exactly quiet with the whole…fighting…thing…” Alec half wished he had a camera to document the blush that crept across Dean’s cheeks. “I’m gonna leave now.”  
            “Please do.” Keegan mumbled, again into Alec’s shoulder. Alec couldn’t help but laugh. She bit him, and that laugh quickly turned into a growl.  
            “Jesus! I’m not even out of the tent yet!” Dean yelped, all but running the last few steps out the entrance.  
            Alec chuckled and pulled Keegan closer. “Now that he’s gone…I believe we were in the middle of—why are you getting up? This is not what precludes to sexing!” He was well aware he was close to whining, but Keegan was sliding off his lap, wriggling out of her pants… “Oh.” His hands flew to his fly, quickly undoing the multiple buttons and shoving the material down.  
             Keegan was _giggling_ at him. “Usually, patience is a virtue, but Alec?” She pulled her sports bra over her head, flinging it at Alec’s face. He barely caught it and tossed it aside. “Now’s not the time.”  
            He lunged off the bed, managing to grab her before falling back onto the bed, naked Keegan in arm. “Damn pants.”  
            “They’re better off.” She cast a quick glance at his entrapped ankles. “Not around your feet.”  
            “Well, forgive me for being in a hurry. You, naked. My priorities weren’t with clothing.” Alec pulled her down to lay next to him, kicking off his pants the rest of the way. However, Keegan wasn’t waiting around for him to finish, and gripped him firmly.  
            Alec snarled, and grabbed her wrist, catching her eyes. She looked vaguely startled, and he grinned, diving down to kiss her. “Uh-uh. I’m not lettin’ you have all the fun.” His other hand found its way between her thighs, two fingers teasing her center. Keegan arched against him, and he kissed her slowly, enjoying the teasing game.  
            “Alec…” She pleaded, her hand spazming around him. Well, there were merits to not being patient, namely the sound she made as he captured her other wrist and pushed it over her head before thrusting into her.  
            After that, it was pretty wordless, save for the groans of their names, and a murmured ‘I love you’ between kisses. Alec was rather proud of himself—when he finally came, leaving a bite mark on Keegan’s shoulder that was going to leave a large bruise—that Keegan had come at least twice before he had. Collapsing next to her, he cuddled as close as he could.  
            Keegan made a purring noise, pulling his arms around her like a blanket. Alec couldn’t help but purr in return, licking at the wound he inflicted on her shoulder.  
             “Shut up!” Biggs yelled, somewhere from the left of their tent. Alec smirked. “Gods, we need to soundproof the tents…” was the last thing he heard before he drifted off, mate in his arms, and content.

***

            “So…no Alec?” Sam asked, not looking up from the laptop.  
            Dean shot him a scathing look. “He’s…”  
            “Naked with Keegan?” The smug bastard didn’t even sound surprised.  
            “If the next sentence you say is ‘I told you so’, I’m gonna punch you.”  
            Sam finally glanced up, looking vaguely amused. “Actually, I was just going to say that we should probably wait a bit. I found two more accounts.”

            Dean strode over, scanning the screen. “These don’t mention missing hearts.”  
            And of course, a Sammy Look. “No, just people witnessing humans transforming into giant wolves.”  
            Dean stared at Sam for a long moment. “So we have a real werewolf here—one that _doesn’t_ wolf out and _does_ snack on hearts...and then we have two that…spontaneously turn into giant wolves?”  
            “On the full moon and the two nights surrounding it.” Sam looked up at Dean, looking grim. “This is something new. We’re gonna need help.”  
            Dean stared at the page, frowning. “Great…just great…”


	7. Chapter 7

LOCATION UNKNOWN  
            This was beyond anything that could be even considered the ‘line of duty’. He was appalled that they could even ask him to do this. Of course he refused.  
            “I do not think you understand. This is not a request.”  
            But what could possibly demand _that_ , what evil could possibly be wreaking havoc to pull that particular group out of retirement?  
            A very long pause. “It.”  


***

            “Why the fuck are you two still in bed?”  
             Alec cracked one eye open, and glared at Biggs. “Because I have stamina that would make you jealous, Biggs. Now why the fuck are you in my tent?”  
            “I second that.” Keegan mumbled, her head under the pillows somewhere to Alec’s right.  
            Biggs snickered. “Dean called for the regulars. Apparently, Sam wouldn’t let him do the Hunt last night without backup. I heard something about multiple sightings of things that were werewolves but now may not be. Sounds like my kinda fun.” He looked positively excited by the prospect.  
            Keegan, however, poked her head out from the pillows. “Unless, the ‘may not be’ part throws them into the ‘spirit’ category, eh, Biggsy?” She grinned. “Wouldn’t want you to go running off, screaming like a _kachiku_ girl.”  
            Biggs, however, looked far less than amused. “I believe we agreed ‘What happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas’…?”  
            Alec snorted. “ _That’s_ the infamous Vegas Hunt you did with Sammy? You never told me Biggs—“  
            “Screamed like a baby?” Keegan supplied helpfully. Biggs glowered at her.  
            “Yeah, well…get up. And Keegan…Field Ops 329.”  
            “You wouldn’t!”  
            Alec glanced between the two of them. “Wait, what?”  
            “Well, while you were in Washington, training for Berrisford, the rest of us still had regular training.” Biggs said, a smile returning to his face.  
            “Biggs…”  
            “And, one day, Keegan…”  
            “Finish the story and you will lose your ability to procreate in any capacity.” Both males stared at Keegan with something similar to, but not quite as severe as abject horror. The girl was scary when she wanted to be.  
             “Uh…tripped, and dragged down our time. Heheh.” Biggs finished lamely, avoiding Alec’s eyes. Alec, however, was watching the blush run up Keegan’s neck and ears. “I’ll…uh…meet you guys outside…”  And Biggs made a not so graceful exit.  
            Keegan threw the covers off her and made to get off the bed. Alec, however, caught her arm. “Heat?”  
            “What?” The combination of her expression and the blush was more than enough to tell him he was right. “How the hell did you know?”  
            He grinned. “I know what makes you embarrassed.” He leaned towards her, kissing her shoulder. “And I remember way back when…nearly putting half the unit in the med ward…and…up against that tree…”  
            He was rewarded was Keegan flushing a deeper red. “Jesus, Alec, we were thirteen!”  
            “Stop thinking like a kachiku. I just wish Manticore had never figured out how to suppress heat cycles.” He cocked his head to the side. “Who?” She gave him a look. Understanding dawned on Alec. “And that would explain why he knew about it.”  
             “Yeah, well…” She looked away. “Come on.”  
            “By the way, Keely, you’re a real bitch.” He kissed her. “Outing poor Biggs and can’t take it yourself.” She punched him in the shoulder, and kissed him again.  
            “Shut up.”

***

            Dean paced the front of the mess hall uneasily. This entire Hunt was giving him a sense of unease that just wouldn’t go away; which was most likely due to Sam’s insistence that they wait for everyone.  
             ‘Everyone’ was almost inside already. Biggs was looking decidedly awkward, slouching next to Jo, who was in a discussion with Misha, the only other Manticore Alum to have passed Dean’s stringent ‘Demon 101’. They were only missing—“Alec and Keegan. So nice of you two to finally join us.” Sam remarked dryly. Dean looked up to see the afore mentioned couple walking in, both dressed in jeans and black shirts, Alec with his shoulder holster, and Keegan with her hip one, looking ready for anything.  
            Dean rolled his eyes. “Ok, we’ve put this thing on hold for too long. Get your asses in seats—stop snarling, Alec, and put your ass in a seat—and listen up. Oh, Jesus, Sam, _handouts_?” Dean glared at Sam as his brother passed him, carefully ignoring him as he passed an information sheet to both Keegan and the still snarling Alec. However, to his complete surprise, Alec, Keegan, Biggs and Misha were now sitting up straight, reading the papers handed to them like perfect soldiers. Sam shot him a look. “Now, obviously, with the sheer numbers that are being reported, we can’t take this in the usual partner style hunt.”  
            “Why wasn’t I invited to this party?” A voice interjected from the back.  
             Dean hung his head. “Felix, go away.”  
            “Aw, now. I tracked you fuckers here. You got a mission, you ain’t leavin’ me behind.” Felix said, strolling up the rear of the mess hall. He flopped into the seat next to Alec, jostling the entire row. “Besides, I highly doubt your _monsters_ are harder to hunt than humans.”  
            Sam and Dean bust out laughing, followed quickly by Jo and Keegan. Alec and Biggs however, both reached (Biggs stretching over Keegan and Alec to do so) and hit Felix on the back of the head. “Felix, just…don’t blow anything up.” Sam said, glaring at Dean when he opened his mouth. “Ok, so obviously werewolves—uh…” He paused, staring at Keegan’s raised hand with some apprehension. “Yes?”  
            “The third witness reported that the alleged werewolf appeared to pull on some sort of fur coat before transforming.” She said, ignoring the snickers from everyone else.  
             Sam looked slightly confused. “Witnesses tend to be confused, especially after experiencing something as freaky as…” he trailed off again. Keegan’s hand was in the air again.  
            Snickering, Misha leaned in. “Keegan, this isn’t Manticore.”  
            She glared at him. “Shut it.” She looked back at Sam. “It’s too specific. It reminds me of a selkie… which means we’re probably dealing with skinwalkers…”  
            Sam shook his head. “This is just a recon tonight, Keegan. And I have no idea what you’re talking about, but using a coat to turn into a wolf? That’s--”  
            There was an explosion from outside, and Sam just hung his head as Felix tried unsuccessfully to hide a fit of giggles. Sam glared. “What? I just set a timer. I had no idea it would go off when you were talking.”  
            Dean just threw a hand over his eyes. “Fuck this. We’re heading into town at five.”  
            “That’s seventeen hundred!” Jo piped in, shooting a look at Alec and Felix specifically.  
            “So just…go do…something.” Dean finished, waving them off. He shot a weary glance at Sam. “And you thought _hand-outs_ would make them better behaved.”  
            “Yeah, well, it worked for a few minutes. Hang on.” Without looking at Dean, he punched Felix in the shoulder as the burly transgenic passed them. “Ok, I’m good.”  
            “Ow, damn, Sam.” Felix joked, grinning, not looking the damnedest bit sorry. Dean rolled his eyes. It was a long day already, and it was just getting longer.

***

            It was late, and where ever these ‘werewolves’ were, they certainly weren’t coming out tonight. Dean was pissed. He had six additional people to deal with five possible werewolves, and now none of them were active on the last day of the full moon. This recon was bullshit, _and_ he was starting to think Keegan’s selkie idea was more accurate…whatever the fuck a selkie was.  
             “::bzt:: _Keegan, stop! Target heading southwest on Bleaker, 105 is in pursuit and I’m fucking following her! Damn--_ ::bzt::” Alec’s voice made the radio clipped to Dean’s belt come to life.

Sam—who was dozing next to him—sputtered awake, looking shocked. “Dude, we’re _on_ Bleaker.” Dean jumped out of the alley, mentally cursing himself. A half second later, he was bowled over by a large, shaggy mass of fur. Without thinking, he grabbed hold, and clung on, dodging the teeth and claws, that were moving far too slow for this to be a werewolf—  
            “What the-” Came Keegan’s surprised voice, and then she collided with the furry mass and Dean. “Dean, out of my way!” She pushed him out of the way, and grabbed the struggling mass by the scruff of the neck.

            From his position on the cold, and rather damp concrete, Dean got a very good look at the ‘werewolf’. “Keegan, that’s a dog.”  
            “Yeah, I tried to tell her that.” Alec said from behind him. “She’s got it in her head that it’s the cause of the werewolves that aren’t after hearts.”  
            “People don’t just abandon Irish Wolf Hounds.” Keegan said composedly. And then, making sure even Sam was watching from the alleyway, she used her free hand to pull on the fur behind the animal’s ears. It gave a very human scream, and then the fur came away. Dean gagged, covering his mouth, before he realized the fur wasn’t revealing muscle, but human hair: as she pulled the wolfhound fur away, the ‘thing’ became human. With one last great pull, Keegan threw the wolfhound pelt away, and held the shaking, naked human teen by the scruff on his neck still. She turned him to face her. “You _skinned_ a _dog_? You are one sick fuck.” She threw him at Dean’s feet. “Told you. We got Skinwalkers.”  
            Dean stared at the kid—really not much older than sixteen or seventeen—and stood up. “Well, talk.”  
            “I don’t have to speak to you.” The kid whimpered. The overall effect wasn’t particularly threatening.  
            Then Alec stepped forward, fangs bared, growling low in his throat. “Yeah? How bout I show you what a _real_ animal is, then?”  
             The kid looked like he was about to wet himself. “We got it out of a book! To compete with the freaks who are part animal!”  
            “I think you mean _us_ , kid.” Dean said before Alec could open his mouth. The kid went even whiter. “You better run.”  
            “We can’t do that, Dean.” He looked up at Keegan, who was watching the kid with the expressionless mask he came to learn was Manticore learned and earned. Dean glanced at Alec, who was frowning: he knew what was coming, she obviously filled him in.

Dean shoved the kid to him, and gestured Sam over. “What the fuck are you talking about, Keely?”  
            Keegan sighed. “Skinwalkers don’t only transform by putting on the pelt of the animal they slaughtered, they have to invoke the spirit of the beast.” She looked back at the kid. “That part never comes off. Eventually, they become stuck, halfway…”  
            “Thus the wolfman legend.” Sam finished, nodding. “But, Selkies? Really?”  
            “If you steal their seal skin, they can’t leave you, until they get it back. Don’t underestimate that draw.  Though, hunters killed most of them off.” Keegan rolled her eyes at Sam and Dean’s faces. “No, not your Hunters, regular, pelt hunters.” She looked back at the kid. “Dean, these guys signed their own suicide notes. They pulled their own triggers. Sadly, we have to be the bullet.”  
            “::Bzt:: _Two more targets heading northeast on Bleaker! Biggs and I are in pursuit!_ ::bzt::” Felix yelled into the radio. Dean watched as Alec glanced down towards his own radio, and the kid dove for his pelt, which seemed to crawl towards him—  
            Without flinching, Alec fired two shots, one to his heart, the second into the back of the kid’s head. Glancing up, he gestured towards the quivering pelt. “Burn it?”  
            “Yeah, after the rest of the pack gets here.” Sam said, taking the safety off his gun. Alec nodded grimly, and began to move the remains of the first skinwalker off the road.  
            “You know, I hate the smell of burned fur.” Dean muttered, clapping Keegan on the shoulder. “Good call, Kee.” He said, moving to help Alec.  
            With that info, they were able to round up the other three in no time at all. As to the actual werewolf, they were going to have to wait till the next full moon. Felix, disappointed he had been unable to engage the ‘mythological’ beast, sulked the entire way back to camp.  


***  
  
            There was something wrong. He couldn’t figure out what was wrong, but something was very… “Wrong?”  
            Biggs glared at Felix with bleary eyes. “Can’t you go be pissy somewhere else?”  
            “Can you think of another adjective besides ‘wrong’? I can grab you a thesaurus if you’d like…”  
             Biggs took his revenge by grabbing the joint out of Felix’s smirking lips and taking a drag on it himself. “I got this feeling every time a mission went sideways.”  
            Felix let out a derisive laugh. “Well, _that_ would have been something _I_ would have let the rest of us in on. Gods, remember Pakistan? I would have loved some warning on _that._ ”  
            “Gods, Felix, do you have an off button?” Biggs coughed, handing the joint back. “I’m trying to explain something…”  
            “Is…is this where Alec lives?” A soft voice asked. Both transgenics spun, looking rather alarmed that they hadn’t heard the approach of the newcomer.  
            Biggs took a step forward, looking awed. “Joshua.”  He said, clasping the canid male’s arm.  
            Felix looked back and forth between the two. “You know dog-boy?”  
            Joshua looked haggard, and slightly ill. “Biggs. Joshua needs to talk to Alec and Dean.” He swayed where he stood. “I have a message for Dean…it’s from the Angels…something…something’s coming…” Biggs and Felix barely caught the transhuman as he lost consciousness and fell face first towards the floor.  



	8. Chapter 8

            The doors to the medical ward burst open with the force of an explosion, and Cera yelped, jumping backwards as a grey blur pushed past her and came up short next to the large dog-man lying on the gurney. Everyone who hadn’t jumped at his initial entrance immediately cleared away. Alec, however, didn’t even take notice. “Oh man, Joshua…” The dogboy looked like he had been put through the ringer. And if that was the case, Alec was going to have serious words with Max about the treatment of transhumans back in their home town. He reached out, carefully brushing some of the matted hair off of Joshua’s forehead, and sank into the chair that Biggs had so thoughtfully shoved behind him the moment his knees had seemed to give. “Report.”  
            If he had been less preoccupied with one of his best friends lying unconscious, he would have caught Biggs and Felix almost but not quite snapping to attention. “He came up behind us while we were patrolling the easternmost edge of camp. I thought I heard a bird or something before…” Felix said. “But _that_ makes no sense.”  
            “Makes more than you think.” Alec muttered, wiping his face with his hand. “He said he had a message?”  
            “From the angels.” Biggs said, shaking his head. “But Castiel usually shows up when he has something to tell the brothers. Isn’t he like…assigned to their case or something?” When Alec shrugged, Biggs stepped forward, laying a hand on his former CO’s shoulder. “He’ll wake up, man.”  
            “Am…Am awake, Biggs.” Came a weak voice from the gurney. Alec upset the chair starting to his feet, just to catch sight of big blue eyes blinking against the harsh fluorescent lights. Joshua gave a weak smile. “Hi, Medium Fella.”  
            Alec smiled reassuringly at him. “Hey, Big Fella.”  
            “I think I’m going to be sick.” Dean’s voice chimed in from the doorway. Alec’s expression soured. “You guys are adorable. I think Keegan may get jealous.” There was the distinct sound of him getting smacked in the back of the head, and then Alec felt someone wrap an arm around his waist.  
            He smiled. “Hey Keegan.”  
            “Hey.” She moved passed him, and looked at Joshua, who was smiling at her too. “How’s my favorite artist?”  
            “Been better, Kee.” His smile faded a little. “Can’t sell my paintings anymore. But…you brought Dean.” Keegan nodded. “I have to give Dean a message.”  Joshua started to push himself up, fighting against the weight of his own body.  
            Alec looked mildly alarmed. “Hey, hey, take it easy, man. Heal up first.”  He said, putting a restraining hand on Joshua’s arm.  
            Dean came up behind him, nodding. “I agree, take it easy, buddy.”  
            “No, it’s important.” Joshua insisted, struggling to sit up. Making a frustrated noise, Alec moved to help him, Felix taking Joshua’s other side. Dean rolled his eyes, gesturing for Cera to move in, and continue her usual medical stuff. To his surprise, Joshua waved her off. “Cas told Joshua that Dean is very important right now. Something is coming. Something very bad.”  
            Dean’s eyes clouded. “How bad?”  
             Joshua shrugged. “Didn’t say. But said that Heaven wants Winchesters back in play…and Cas doesn’t want Dean to do that.”  
            There was a long moment when no one said anything. “Excuse me?” Alec asked, scratching his head.  
            “Cas said Dean and family have to stay off heaven’s radar. He said that this was something they would have to take on faith. Joshua doesn’t know more, that’s the whole message.” He finished, breathing heavy and giving a small whine.

            Cera shoved Alec out of the way.  “He’s exhausted and his electrolytes are all out of whack and that’s just the start. I don’t like what I’m seeing and until I do, you’re all out of my infirmary—Felix if you ask about blood tests I swear I’m going to shoot you right now.” Cera finished, not looking at the transgenic who had come up behind her. Felix, who had just opened his mouth, hastily shut it and backed away. “I promise I’ll call you guys the minute I get him a bit more stable.” She offered Alec and Dean both a rare smile. “Until then, get the hell out of my infirmary.”  
            “Doctor lady is scary.” Joshua remarked, laying back down with a slight smirk, “I’d do what she says.”  
            Alec sidestepped Cera to give the larger transhuman a quick scratch behind his ear. “Yeah, yeah. See ya later, Big Fella.”

***

            “Another of those freaks showed up?” Matt growled, storming into the tent the Demonborne used as a common room.  
            Rosie barely glanced up from her book, and just waved a hand towards the couch where Matt flopped down, continuing his rant to no one in particular. This was getting out of hand. “Matt, sit down and take stock of the prizes we have left, else Ellen’s gonna have your head on a fucking platter _again_.” She looked towards the dark skinned kid, but he was still mumbling to himself, making the table crackle every time he sent a jolt of electricity through it. He was starting to scare her; Sam had told her about the warning signs to look for when a demonborne was starting to snap, and Matt could electrocute everyone in the camp if he had a mind to. Granted, he would have to catch half of them first…  
            “You better make sure this new one keeps the fuck away from me.” Matt growled at her, grabbing the clipboard from her bag with such force it cracked the particle board of the backing. “I read online it takes upwards of seventy thousand volts and three amps to take down one of these fuckers.” His eyes glittered. “I’m close.”

***

            Alec slumped by the fire, head in his hands, trying to forget existing was an option. His mind was far from quiet, and so far, there was no way of working through it.  He sighed, and that’s when he smelled the arid smoke of burning marijuana. Moving his hands, he saw a joint held out in front of his face, and followed the hand holding it up to Felix’s face. The larger X5 exhaled more smoke, saying “You look like you need to clear your head.” After a moment’s hesitation, Alec took the proffered jay and took a deep drag, holding it as long as he could. He wasn’t proud when he coughed like a rookie, especially when Felix snorted, commenting, “Really?”  
            “It’s been a while.” He sputtered, passing the joint back.  
            Felix shrugged. “What’s on your mind, Alec?” He asked, taking another hit himself and settling down on the log next to him.  
            It was a good question, one Alec wasn’t so sure of himself. “Joshua.” The snort that came from Felix was completely expected. “ _I_ don’t even know where to start.”  
            “Hence the need to clear your head. I’d start at the beginning.” He passed the joint back. “I’m guessing you met Joshua back in Seattle?”  
            “Mmm.” Alec shook his head, determined not to cough this time. “Manticore. I was ordered to help Max escape when it became clear she wasn’t going to go along with Renfro’s ‘Let’s Kill Eyes Only’ plan. Joshua was in the basement.” He chuckled. “Guy was strong. Got us out a lot faster than I coulda hoped for. Long story short, I grew kinda fond of him. The kid’s gentle, creative…and now the angels are using him as an errand boy?” Alec gave a weak snarl. “I’m not sure if I’m pissed or worried that Cas had to do that.”  
            “I wouldn’t try to fathom angels, man. As far as I can tell, they don’t let you in on their reasons unless they want you to know anyway.” However, Felix raised his eyebrows. “Wait a sec, if you were only ordered to help her escape, why the fuck did you stick around with Max for over a year afterwards?”  
            Alec shrugged. “She was hot.”  
            Felix laughed outright, smoke coming out of his nose. “Can’t blame you if she took after 453!”  
            “Her tits alone…”

            “I can imagine.”

            His head wasn’t much clearer, but talking helped.  And sitting by the fire, smoking in amicable silence, it seemed like it was doing the trick.

***

            “We’ve got a problem.” Sam never liked hearing those words in the best circumstances…but coupled with the look of fear on Ellen and Rosie’s faces, it sent a particularly harrowing chill down his spine.  
            “What happened?” He darted forward, grabbing each by the shoulders and giving them a visual once over, until he was certain that they were both physically ok: Rosie had something that looked suspiciously like electrical burns around her wrists. “Matt?!”

            “Keep your voice down, you idjit!” Ellen hissed at him, smacking him upside the head. Sam half flinched, turning his attention back to Rose who looked more disturbed then hurt. “I already had Cera patch her up.”  
            “Seriously, I’m ok on that front.” Rose said, offering him a smile that was more of a quirking of the corner of her lips. “It was something that Matt said…well, the _somethings_ that he’s been saying.”  
            Sam felt like the floor was dropping from beneath him. “Rose!” But Ellen elbowed him hard in the ribs. He rolled his eyes at her; it didn’t hurt per say, but it was damned annoying.  
            Rose glanced at her shoes before continuing, “He’s been going on about how the chimeras are freaks, and…just…at first I thought it was the usual human reaction to anything Manticore.” She took a deep breath. “But it’s been getting worse. And he’s been _training_ his demon ability; he said he was close to seventy thousand volts now!”  
             Sam let out a low whistle, impressed despite himself. But Ellen held up her hand, “That’s not the most disturbing part, I’m afraid, Sam.”  
            He turned his gaze back to Rose, who was looking terrified.. This wasn’t good, this wasn’t anything close to good. “He told me he can’t wait. He told me that he has to strike before you all get him.”  
            Sam felt the blood drain out of his face. “This is insane.  _He’s_ gone insane.”  
            “I agree with you, Sam.” Ellen said, calmly. “But Rosie’s not done.”  
            “He burned me when I told him to quit talking like that.” Rose finished, hugging herself. “Told me if I love freaks so much, I should die like one. But I ghosted through him, knocked him out. He swore he didn’t remember doing that when he woke up.”  
            Sam’s gaze hardened and he looked at Ellen with cold, hazel eyes. “ _When_ did this happen?”  
            Ellen didn’t back down. “About two hours ago.” But, looking at his face, she was starting to regret the decision.  
            Sam snarled, grabbing her by the front of her shirt, and eliciting a small cry from Rose, who wisely backed away. “I _never_ want to hear about this so late _again_. This is _my_ pack, and _no one_ fucks with _my pack_.” His teeth were bared, his pupils were slit. Ellen had the craziest thought that Alec would be so proud right now, and then she did her best imitation of any of the chimeras when on the receiving end of Dean or Alec’s mood. Tilting her head back to expose the soft underside of her throat was the absolute _last_ target she would have given a wild animal, but the words ‘ _my pack_ ’ kept floating across her mind, and she realized that, in some weird way, Sam had adopted the Demonborne as his own . And _she_ had just stepped on some alpha toes.  
            She was quite surprised when Sam dropped her with a snarl, growling a question to Rosie. Her response, “He’s in the infirmary”, meant that Sam was certainly going to go look in on Matt.  
            “Well,” Ellen said, when Sam was finally taking his long strides towards the campfire, presumably to fill in the other pack leaders, “I can’t say I have too much of a worry about Sam anymore.”  
            Rose paused in the midst of helping Ellen to her feet. “What do you mean?”  
            She gave a dry laugh. “Back in Terminal City, there was so much talk of the leader being to ‘human’ and not ‘animal’ enough. I was worried about that here too, since Sam and Dean seemed like they were forgetting what they were.” She rubbed at the abused fabric of her flannel shirt, and the slight scratches from where Sam’s nails had grazed her skin underneath. “Sam’s remembering.”  
            “Are you sure that’s a good thing?” Rose asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ellen laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I don’t know about for us, darlin’, but for them, it most certainly is. You can’t deny what you are…”  


***

            “We’re missing something.” Sam finished, just as his eyes came to rest on the smoking joint in Felix’s hand. His eyebrows shot up towards his hairline and he _huffed_. “Is that-”  
            “Yep.” It was Alec who answered, looking rather amused by the expression on his face.  
            Sam shifted his weight, still unable to completely grasp the _why_. “In the middle of the _day_?”  
            “Does he realize his voice goes up two octaves when he’s bein’ pissy?” Felix asked, looking rather disturbed.  
            “I think it rises with his eyebrows.” Alec stage whispered, sending Felix into muffled giggles.  
            Sam sputtered, raising his hands to his face and making some gesture that might have been Manticore code, but the absolutely affronted look on his face was what sent the X5s into the mud, laughing their asses off.  
            Even Dean couldn’t quite hide the smirk as he wiped at his face, having hung back by his car for most of the conversation. “Guys, now’s not the time to be mocking Princess Sammy.” He flashed Sam his most charming smile, and was rewarded with renewed laughter from the peanut gallery and a patented Samuel Winchester Bitchface. “Seriously, there’s something wrong with Matt.” He turned to give the boys a look, but they were still giggling.  
            “You mean aside from being a prejudicial asswipe of a kachiku with an especially freaky ability?” Alec quipped, apparently unable to help himself. Both he and Felix started snickering all over again.  
            Dean was seriously starting to regret not being stoned for this himself. His mind snapped back to Rosie, and he felt himself bristle. A low growl escaped his lips; too low, he thought, to ever be heard by the giggling idiots. He was wrong. The two sobered up instantly; the only one with any challenge in his gaze was Alec. “You’re all supposed to report incidents, especially when they escalate.” He said, his gaze lingering on the peanut gallery’s defacto leader.  
            An inebriated Alec (the substance itself apparently didn’t matter), while lacking a filter, wasn’t stupid. “If I thought that he had actually learned to kill me by glaring at the back of my head, I would have reported it. But Electroshock has to get his hands on you to do anything.”  
            “We kind of have an advantage there.” Felix agreed, “Snap his wrists before he got close enough to lay a hand.  And then there’s the idea of forcing rubber gloves on him. Don’t know if he can electrify his entire body, and kinda doubt it: he needs a ground or he’d burn himself up.”  
            Dean rubbed at his face, ignoring Sam’s growing look of smugness. “You guys are missing the point. He. Hurt. Rose.” The selective hearing they had been implementing fell away, and they seemed to sober up. Dean smiled. “See, Sam?”  
            “Fuck you, Jerk.”  
            “So he wasn’t just getting overly mouthy, he actually _hurt_ Rosie with his ability?” Alec asked, trying to sound only mildly curious. He failed.  
            “I have a question.”  
            “Yes, Felix.” Dean hoped he didn’t sound too relieved they were finally taking part in this.  
            Felix was looking oddly pensive. “Why haven’t we talked to Matt yet?”  
            That was a very good point. “Um…” Dean looked to Sam.  
            “So I don’t kill him.” Sam growled.  
            Felix nodded, raising his eyebrows. “Good answer, but I don’t think we’ll get any others till we speak to him.”  
            Dean blinked, and they were on their feet. It was eerie how quickly they moved, but the sway in their stances didn’t make them very intimidating. With a shrug, Dean started towards the medical tent. There was something wrong, that Dean could feel the second he crossed the threshold into the sterilized halls of the infirmary. Beside him Sam tensed, also catching the strange vibe. Alec halted his group at the door. “Dean, I smell blood, fresh blood.”  
            There was a loud inhale. “It’s not transgenic, but it’s got that sulfuric tang to it that we have. It’s Demonborne.” Felix announced, breathing out.  
             Sam and Dean shared a look. Wordlessly, they both drew their guns. Alec and Felix took their cue from them, looking tense and a little weary. A flash of movement caught Dean’s attention out of the corner of his eye, and he spun, leveling his gun. Cera was sprawled on the floor, her hair matted with blood, and one arm bent at an impossible angle. She moaned; Dean flagged Alec forward to check on her. They moved forward, Felix checking behind the door as Alec dodged to Cera. Felix let out a surprised gasp, causing Alec to jerk away from the prone transgenic and snap his gun up.  
            They had waited long enough: Dean and Sam charged in.  
            Matt was slouching in Cera’s desk chair, knife in one hand and tongue in the other. Blood was still trickling from his mouth, weak little spurts the dribbled from his lips to his chest. And standing next to him was a man dressed in an impeccable suit, one hand resting lightly on the dead kid’s shoulder.  
            “So,” The man smiled, “the Hardy Boys finally found me. Took you long enough. I have to compliment you on your clones,” He gave a teasing leer towards Alec and Felix, but neither reacted. The unknown man chuckled, “Oh, I like them.  Nice homage to your narcissism, Dean.”  
            “Who the hell are you?” Dean snarled, keeping the man trained in his sights.  
            Despite having four guns trained on him, the man didn’t seem remotely worried. Dean highly doubted he was human. “The name’s Crowley. I came on behalf of my superior to deliver a message.” He patted Matt’s corpse on the shoulder.  Dean glanced at Sam before looking back at Crowley.  Crowley looked mildly exasperated. “I forgot, they warned me you two at best are functioning morons.”

            Dean made a face.  “You’re functioning morons…more.”  Everyone gave him a look.

            Crowley’s was perhaps the most disbelieving, but he recovered with a smirk.  “Stay out of it.  Now, it’s been lovely chatting with you all, but places to go, people to kill.  Ta!” With a wave of his fingers, he vanished, leaving them alone in the blood soaked infirmary.  



	9. Chapter 9

THE NEW RUSSIAN UNION

            Ivan Bogdanovich never believed in miracles.  Especially since those damned Americans had sent their genetic freaks to assassinate his predecessor, President Nikolai Kolankov, throwing his entire country into chaos.  The Americans had gotten what they had wanted; they were no longer the ones suffering the most in this time of trouble.

            That was when Crowley had shown up.  Ivan’s new aide had done much in the short time he was there, setting up new political campaigns, moving weapons shipments, even getting rid of those annoying pacifists in his office.  He hadn’t asked why they had suddenly stopped showing up to work, and nothing had shown up in the papers, so he really didn’t care. He believed Crowley was a miracle when the man had moved their final shipment of nuclear warheads without raising the suspicions of INTERPOL or the United Nations.

            Ivan never took the time to question the cost as he gleefully pressed the launch button.  Crowley had done it all with a promise to collect in ten years but whatever he wanted was inconsequential: revenge was just too sweet.

 

***

            There was something wrong. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out, and Dean didn’t like it.  It made his skin itch.  He wanted to move, to _go_ …he just didn’t know why or where.  “…I’m giving birth to a pterodactyl.”

            Dean sighed.  “Great.”  He replied, staring out over the horizon.  Did it always look so…dark? The slap to the back of the head surprised him.  “Ow! What?” He demanded, rubbing the back of his head.

            Alec was snickering at him.  “Apparently birthing an avian dinosaur is quite commonplace in your world. Still, you should be sort of _here_ for it.” Dean stared at him for a long moment.  “You didn’t hear a word I said.”

            “I didn’t hear a word you said.” Dean admitted.

            “Just so long as we’re on the same page.” Alec settled back into his seat, unfolding a slightly used looking newspaper.  “I was _saying_ I got a call from an old unit-mate of mine.”

            “Huh.”  Dean grunted, still trying to shrug off the _wrongness_ that was permeating the air.

            Alec shot him a look, but kept going.  “Her name’s Jewel. X5R-657. Turns out, she just finished a Manticore job in Moscow.”  Dean looked sharply at Alec, who grinned.  “Yeah, knew that would catch your attention.  Anyway, her mark was a certain Russian President; I’m betting it’s that whole Project Phoenix thing Max told us about awhile back.” The smile slid off Alec’s face.  “I _so_ should have gotten that job.  Anyway, Jewel said the mission went as planned, but the outcome didn’t.  The new president is…”  He stopped, eyes flicking towards the sky.

            Dean followed his lead, looking up.  “I know, it’s dark rig…” There was a noise being carried on the wind. It was faint, and for some reason, it brought the idea of old movies.

            “Guys!” Biggs came running out, Sam hot on his heels. They both looked pale.  “Dix is on the horn! Alec, we’ve got incoming!” Alec’s gaze shot to Biggs, and then the two were off, yelling orders in harsh voices that nearly made Dean jump.

            “What the fuck?”  Dean demanded, looking to Sam.

            Sam made an almost helpless shrug, now surrounded by a flurry of movement as the rest of the transgenics hurried to do what they had been commanded.  “I really don’t know.  It was all coded.  Biggs picked up the signal, and then ran out here-”

            A sudden loud, piercing alarm sounded, making Dean drop to his knees, covering his ears.  It took him a minute to realize it was the _air raid siren_ that Felix had set it up on top of the ferris wheel.  “We’re being bombed?”  He screamed rather than said.

            Sam said something in return, but it was lost amid the squalling.  So instead, he hauled him up by the collar of his shirt, and dragged him to where Jo and Ellen had the non transgenics awaiting orders.  “Ellen!”

            “Biggs told us to wait here!”  Ellen yelled back to them, hugging Jo.  “Alec sent a group to the town, to get them to-”  Her words were lost in a weird pressure wall that seemed to block out all sound, but this strange whine.  More like a whistle, really. And then dirt exploded all around them.

            For a long moment, Dean knew nothing.  Then slowly, there was the unmistakable smell of dirt.  And then there was the _taste_ , in his mouth.  He blinked, and realized he had been pushed face first into the ground by the force of the explosion. His ears were fucked; there was this faint ringing, but all the noise was muted.  And there were more explosions.  All along the tree line, he could see white lines falling down, and bursting into bright mushroom clouds.  Another shockwave knocked him off his feet.

            Dazed, he reached out for Sam.  It didn’t take him but a minute to find him, lying next to him, looking just as flabbergasted as he was.  The second Sam realized he was there, he started yelling something at him, gesturing at fucking _everything_ , and Dean waited patiently for all of five seconds before he smacked Sam in the shoulder.  :: _Sign, dumbass.  We can’t hear._ ::

            It took Sam a few moments to catch on, and his flailing to morph into something more like the sign language they were used to.  :: _We were just BOMBED_!::

            More muted explosions were filtering in, louder now, and faint pops were making Dean shake his head.  :: _The Carnival looks ok.  It seems like they hit what was left of the town just north of here_.::  Sam wasn’t even looking at him.  He was too busy struggling to his feet, looking horrified at the sheer devastation that the shockwaves had sent through their camp.  And yeah, it was going to be one hell of a clean up, but Ellen was signaling a thumbs up, so no one was hurt, and that was all they could ask for.

            Dean was tackled sideways, and hit the ground hard, surprised to find it hot. Snarling, he looked up to see Alec had been the one to charge him, and was covering his head with his hands.  Without questioning it, Dean covered his own face.  Barely seconds later, another, much closer, bomb fell, and the shockwave felt like it was shaking Dean to his very bones.  After a long moment, Alec got up, offering a hand to both Sam and Dean.  :: _The town’s gone.  We need to get out of here, but a caravan is going to be an easy target_.::

            “Target?!”  Sam’s voice was so high, even half deaf, both Alec and Dean could hear it.

            Giving Sam an annoyed look, Alec handed over a suspiciously bloodstained newspaper.  Dean read **Special Edition** across the top, it had been printed early that morning, and then, underneath in bigger words: **Russia Bombs White House**.

            :: _They started World War III_ :: Alec signed solemnly.  :: _Guided missiles have been falling over the US since ten hundred this morning.  Biggs is trying to find out more_.::

            Dean felt like his legs were rubber; they were having the hardest time keeping him upright.  :: _No._ :: He signed.  Alec looked like he was going to argue, and then shook his head, signing something to Sam before he set off to check on Ellen’s group.

            Dean glared angrily at the back of his head before turning on his heel and setting off towards the far end of the camp.  He heard something, through the white noise and vague ringing, and then there was a pain in his right leg that knocked him off his feet.  The last thing he saw was the ferris wheel rocking back and forth on only one support, the other blown away, and then it all faded to black.

 

***

            “…They were _aiming_ for us. That’s seriously the only tactical reason to take out West Bumblefuck, South Carolina.” Alec was speaking, and he sounded paranoid.

            “I dunno, maybe they were just blanketing the whole eastern seaboard…like the newspaper says.”  Dean blinked, and, yep, Sam was wearing a bitch-face to match the tone he had taken with their youngest brother.

            Alec was leaning against the wall of the infirmary, arms wrapped loosely around Keegan.  Both of them looked worse for wear; Alec’s face was cut up and both of his arms were bandaged from wrist to bicep.  Keegan was stripped down to her BDU pants and bra; everything in between was bandaged.  Dean struggled to lift his head, and as he looked around, every one of the transgenics Alec had taken with him to scout was in a similar situation.

            However, that small movement was _painful_ , and he couldn’t help the small groan that escaped him.  It was freaking _physical_ , the attention shift from Alec and Sam to him.  He shifted uncomfortably.  “Uh…what’s a guy got to do to get some food around here?”  He offered his best smile (Damn, even _that_ hurt.) Sam stared at him, looking dumbfounded.

                “You’ve been out of it for a day now.” Alec informed him, giving Sam a look. “Congrats, on your first shrapnel hit.  Cera said I did a damned good job getting the debris out too, didn’t I?” He finished, looking towards the blonde and fluttering his eyelashes.

            Cera heaved an aggravated sigh and practically shoved Sam out of the way to get to the ancient heart monitor by Dean’s bed side.  “And would have left one nasty scar, had he been human.”  She said, making a note on Dean’s chart.  “But yes, Alec did save your life.  Shrapnel nicked an artery.”  Dean made to sit up, but Cera shoved him back down. “You lost a shitload of blood, Winchester.  You are on bed rest till we get moving again.  It’s ok, you’ll have lots of company.  I’ve got Felix tied to his bed; it’s a broken leg, and he’s insisting he can walk on it.  He learned that from _you_ by the way.”  She snarled at Alec. 

            Alec shrugged, and then winced.  Dean raised his eyebrows.  “You didn’t seem hurt when you were saving my ass.”

            Alec opened his mouth to say something, but Keegan cut him off.  “He’s an adrenaline junkie.”

            “Yeah, ok miss I-had-a-building-fall-on-me.” Alec shot back, rolling his eyes.  “That’s the last time I send you and Felix on search and rescue; I end up having to search and rescue you two more often.”

            “I need to talk to Dean.”  The words were soft, but Alec and Keegan immediately stopped their bickering and looked at Sam, surprised.

            Heck, even Dean was surprised.  Sam had been so quiet ever since he had woken up… “Well, talk damn it.”

            Sam pinned him with an unreadable expression.  “Alone.”

            Cera opened her mouth to argue, but Dean caught Alec subtly shake his head out of the corner of his eye, and Cera shut her mouth, moving instead towards Felix’s bed, and pulling the portable screen out.  After that, she gestured for the rest of the walking wounded to leave.

            The last ones out were Keegan and Alec.  “By the way, Sam,” Alec said, as he was following Keegan through the doorway, “They _were_ aiming for us.  Check out Bogdanovich’s assistant.”  He tossed a fresh newspaper at Sam, but no smile lit his face.  “They started a war to get to us.  This isn’t good.”

            “Thank you, Alec.” Sam said, glancing at the paper before handing it over to Dean.

            Dean’s eyes widened just as the door slid shut.  “It’s the Crowley dude!”

            “That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about, Dean.”  His eyes shot back to Sam, and _damn_ , that expression was not good.  “This is serious.”

            “I know it’s serious, Sammy, I-” But Dean couldn’t finish his sentence, because he could swear those were tears pouring from Sam’s eyes.  Gripping his shoulder, he asked, “Dude, are you crying?”

            “I watched Alec take a shrapnel hit to the face fixing you because I couldn’t help you; it was too bad! Fuck, Dean, what the hell are we _doing_ out here with them?”

            “Finding out who we are.” Dean said, as calm as he could.  “Sammy, is this any different than patching each other up after a hunt gone wrong? Yeah, this was worse than the usual, but there are always the really bad ones, and the usual ones, and the ones that need almost nothing-”

            “We can’t protect them, Dean.  I don’t think we can keep this up.”

 

***

            It took a few days, but Dean was never more thankful for the stem cells circulating throughout his blood.  He was back on his feet in practically no time, and the scar along his thigh was rapidly fading. He was glad to be out of the infirmary too: Felix never shut up _and_ it seemed like Alec had taken command while he had been out of it.  And command was the correct word, too.  Everything was done, and the carnival was practically finished being rebuilt, though Dean suspected that was more on Ellen’s request then Alec’s strategy.  Alec had the rest of the transgenics on full alert status.  As Dean walked through the infirmary doors, he saw a group doing drills off to the side, while the other was helping set up for dinner. 

            “Well, well, well, look who’s up and about.”  Ellen said, giving him a hug the moment he walked into the mess hall.  Jo was right behind her, darting in for a quick, one armed version before heading back to dish out the night’s stew.  “I take it you saw the drills outside.”

            “I also saw Sam with them.  He hasn’t taken an objection…where are all the demonborne?” Dean quickly took a head count, and yeah, he wasn’t going crazy, they were the majority of the missing among the mess hall attendees.  Ellen quickly avoided his gaze. “Ellen…”

            “Right after the first bombing, three of them took off.  Rosie’s devastated.  Frankie went AWOL as I think the term is, and Hanin is not looking too good, so not even the Chimeras got off well.  Alec is thinking of sending Pan with a smaller group back towards TC-”Ellen stopped at the angry look on Dean’s face.  “Pan’s a very mature X6, Dean.  And he’s an Alpha in his own right…just of X6s…”

            Dean slammed a fist on the table, ignoring the startled looks of the few in the mess hall. “Alec wants to split us up, why am I not surprised?”

            “Dean…” Ellen started, looked really alarmed.  “Hear me out.”

            “No! Alec wants a fucking split?  He got it!”  And with that, Dean stormed out of the hall.


	10. Chapter 10

            Dean was used to a lot from Alec.  He had only known him a few years, but it certainly felt like a life time.  One could even argue that Dean had always known Alec,  especially when one realized how much Alec had taken after his clone.  Yeah, Dean had it figured that he _knew_ his brother, even if his brother didn’t want to admit it.

            Unfortunately, that didn’t prepare him to walk out of his tent the next morning to find nearly half the camp missing.  It was a whip-crack to his heart, and his knees may have buckled a bit.  Dean covered by grabbing the support of his tent, turning it into a lean when Sam poked his head out behind him.  Sam had started to say something, but Dean ignored him, heading into the camp grounds, towards the infirmary.  He wasn’t surprised it was there, he was taking stock of _who_.  But the empty cot that had held Joshua earlier was empty, and Cera’s personal medical kit was gone.  It confirmed it.

            “They’re not coming back.” He said to no one in particular, slumping into Cera’s chair.  “He fucking left.”  After a long moment, he pulled himself up and headed towards the mess hall.  He had to see how many people he had left.

 

***

            One usually assumed that if one worked for evil, one was evil.  And it _is_ generally true, Crowley didn’t consider himself an exception to that.  But no one asked him how much he _hated_ it.

            When the Hardy Boy Winchesters had stopped Lucifer rising, it had left a pretty big vacancy in Hell.  Crowley had just been the best candidate for the job, and took over the job.  It hadn’t been particularly easy; there were some other very big players with their eyes on the prize.  But Crowley was smart enough to know when he needed help…he just hadn’t gambled on how much he’d need.

            Invoking an embodiment of Evil is a particularly useful way to bolster ones power for a time, and would have been just what he needed to cinch the throne.  Unfortunately, as any grammar nazi will tell you, there is a _very_ big difference between ‘an’ and ‘the’.  And while Crowley had been quite clear, The Embodiment of Evil was bored. Living in the hearts of men was boring, and it figured Crowley could show it a good time.  It had only asked for his assistance in eliminating a certain bloodline that Heaven had a habit of Tapping.  The Winchesters were certainly a thorn in his side, but he had to admit, the boys amused him.  Unfortunately, he had been betting on his new powers as King of Hell putting him back on top in the power play.  Evil begets Evil, and Crowley hadn’t banked on it growing _that_ much.  And he _hated_ being subservient to _anything_.

            So he was biding his time.  After all, it wasn’t as if the EoE had a _plan_.   Sooner or later it was going to slip up and realize that the Winchesters were more than an annoyance and fun ‘hunt’.  Crowley just needed to be patient.  After all, he just wanted to rule Hell.  Lofty goals got one dead.

            Besides, toying with the Winchesters was fun.

 

***

            Dean was truly numb, he wasn’t sure if anything could get him out of his funk.  Apparently yelling at Sam had been the wrong thing (but seriously,  he had eyes, couldn’t he _see_ half of their camp was gone?) and Sam had certainly let him know how this was—in _every_ way— _Dean’s_ fault.  And, after getting over his initial defensiveness and actually letting his brother’s words sink in…yeah.  It was.  Alec had been trying to implement a safe evacuation, to make sure their people had the best chance against more targeted missile attacks.  Dean had screamed at him about splitting up.  And thus, Alec had.

            “Is now not a good time?” 

            “Holy fucking shit!”  Dean nearly leapt out of his skin, spinning on Castiel who seemed unsurprised by his reaction.  “How many times have I told you not to just sneak up on people?!”

            Castiel ignored him.  “Dean, there is much I need to tell you.  Where are Sam, Alec and Felix?”

            Dean glared at him.  “Gee, Castiel.  Where does it _look_ like they are?”

            “Your sarcasm is not helpful, Dean.  I can sense Sam, but Alec and Felix appear to be far away.”

            “That’s because they _are_.” Dean huffed, really not needing any more on his plate right now.  “Alec took off, took his pack with him.” Castiel looked upset.  It was this change of expression that made Dean actually sit up and take notice.  “Cas, what is it?”

            “This is exactly what it wants.”  The angel muttered, frowning.  “You are stronger together; there’s truth to the idea of safety in numbers.”  He turned his gaze back to Dean.  “I assume a demon named Crowley has made contact with you?”

            Dean held up a hand, “Now hang on.  Crowley was _not_ a demon.  We’re warded against them.”

            “Not just a demon.  Crowley is the King of Hell; he’s a bit more than your average hell-spawn.”  Castiel shook his head.  “Crowley is working for The Embodiment of Evil.  It is it’s wish that all Winchesters are wiped out.  It fears Heaven’s ability to interfere by Tapping you.  With you and your bloodline wiped out, there are none who can be vessel to an arch angel.”

            It took him a moment, and he worked through Cas’ words.  “Ok, firstly if our bloodline is the only one that can play house for an arch angel, Heaven really screwed up and secondly, _The_   Embodiment of Evil?”

            Castiel nodded.  “It is not something you are used to dealing with.  We have tried many times to destroy it, but are unable to.  It is the thing that corrupted the universe, and it hides in every living thing.  As to your bloodline, yes, you are right.  We had no script for what to do after you stopped the Apocalypse.  Most generations have several blessed bloodlines, but in yours, all the others had died out.  If new lines were supposed to be created, God hasn’t yet decided which they are.”  He pinned Dean with his dark gaze.  “They will see this as a win, Dean.  You must be prepared to do anything and everything to keep your kin together.  They will strike if you are weak.”

            “Whoa, we are never _weak_ —damnit, Cas!  Will you ever actually _finish_ a conversation? ! Son of a _bitch_!”  Dean kicked a rock, which went sailing, barely missing Sam’s head as he came out to investigate the source of the noise.

            “Cas stop by?” Sam asked, smirking as Dean continued his litany of curses.  He ducked as Dean chucked a handful of mud at him.  “Care to fill me in?”

            “The universe fucking hates us!” Dean yelled, storming off in the general direction of the Impala.

 

***

            Alec couldn’t help looking back.  The rearview mirror seemed to call his gaze, despite the fact the thing they left was far from visible, and was actually more towards the rear passenger side than straight behind him.

            It didn’t matter though.  He had done his duty, and would now continue to do so.  He had sent Pan and Cera back to TC with Joshua, and the rest of the homesick transgenics.  The Gypsy life was a great thing, but it was also for a very particular set of transgenics, and most of them just weren’t up to it.  Still, Alec was left with the biggest pack of his own he’d had since Manticore: Keegan, Biggs, Felix, Rani and Misha.  They had all already been packed and ready to move, expecting to be told to move out.  When Alec had told them what happened and how he was planning on escorting the leaving transgenics anyway, they didn’t even need time to think.

            He felt guilty, though.  They were driving through refugees and still burning towns, and he felt like they should still be escorting the civilians, the demonborne.  But that would require abandoning the carnival, and Dean had made it very clear he valued those rides over keeping a low profile.  …So maybe Dean hadn’t out right said it, but the way he had reacted to Alec trying to keep the pack happy…

            Alec gave himself a little shake.  He didn’t need to dwell on this.  There were five people relying on him, and now that they had gotten the others off to TC, they needed something to do, someplace to go.  Camping in a disused campground was only a first step; Alec had mostly wanted more intel on the state of the country before getting a solid plan together.

            “I could make this all so much simpler.” A deep, raspy Cockney accent sounded from behind him. He was already cursing himself, spinning with his fangs bared when he found himself slammed against the side of the car.  And he couldn’t move—he was pinned and there was nothing holding him!  “Oh, you are a feisty one.”  Crowley said, stepping forward.  He gave an exaggerated look around, only driving home the fact Alec had strayed too far from the rest of the group and the camp they had made.  “Bit far from home, little duck.”

            “Despite what you may think, there’s no _duck_ in my cocktail.”  Alec snarled.  “I can still exorcise you-”  Alec’s threat was cut off as his lungs would no longer expand.  He gasped, but they were unresponsive, as if they weren’t even there, and he glared at Crowley, despite the fact he was slowly suffocating.

            Crowley frowned at him.  “You’re right, removing your lungs is a tad excessive.”  He snapped his fingers, and Alec gasped as air filled his apparently reappeared lungs.  “But don’t think I won’t tear out your tongue if you try to exorcise me.  One word of Latin and you’re mute.”

            Clearly, Crowley didn’t know who he was dealing with.  “ _Ire futuis matrem vestram._ ”

            Crowley stared at Alec for a long moment before letting out a ‘ha!’.  “I like you, kid.  You’ve got spunk.  You’d make an excellent  crossroads broker.”  He grinned. “So, hear me out?”

            Alec begrudgingly lost his snarl; on some level, he knew he should feel kinda weird he’d impressed a demon, but he was also strangely proud.  “Unpin me from the jeep and we’ll talk.” Crowley grinned at him as the pressure vanished, and Alec rubbed his back where it had hit the door handle.  “You do know I’m not _really_ a Winchester, right?  I don’t do the whole dealing with demons thing.  Sure, I hunt the supernatural, but I swore off demons after we put away Lilith.”

            “But _why_ did they make deals?  Is there _nothing_ that you want bad enough to sell your soul?  It’s not like _your_ kind only gets ten years. We _do_ make allowances for mayhem.”  He smiled encouragingly at Alec, who just raised an eyebrow.  “Let me cut to the meat of the deal, shall I?”  He vanished, reappearing right next to Alec, but this time holding a long paper contract.  “I could give you _universal_ acceptance of the transgenic race—and I mean _all_ of them, including any half-breeds you might have with humans and those funny ones that look more like monsters then labrats—for one— _your—_ soul.  And your bill wouldn’t even come due for not one but _two_ whole _decades_.  Twenty years before I come to collect.”  He swung an arm amicably over Alec’s shoulder as the transgenic quickly read through the contract.  “Well, and the ability to torture your souls in Hell to turn you into demons, but that’s really just a formality.”

            That warranted both eyebrows raising, and Alec looked Crowley straight in the eye.  “You’re telling me that, as of right now, no transgenic who dies can go to Hell?”  Crowley nodded.  “And you want me to give you permission to take them there?  Fuck that.”  He pushed the contract back into Crowley’s hands.  “Thanks, but no thanks.”

            “You didn’t ask where they went _now._ ”  Alec bit his lip, furious.  Crowley had him, and he _knew_ it. “Purgatory, so you know.”  The demon finished, sing-song.  “See, they used to just stop existing: until your little faerie saved the world, transgenics didn’t _have_ souls.  A purely created being, until Danú ‘blessed’ you.  But where do Danú’s children go?” His smile widened.  “The same place where every foul beastie you or your brothers killed go when they die.  Nasty little thing about not having a belief system, you go where you’re put.  You sign the contract, your people get to be just like everybody else.  Your souls go up for grabs.  I may be a demon, but even _I_ wouldn’t try to get you to sell your entire race’s collective souls.”

            “Why are you even asking me?  I’m sure there are plenty of transgenics who would leap at the chance.”  Alec hated the fact he was tempted, and he was stalling for time.

            “Ah, but they’re not _you._ ”  Crowley was next to him again, contract in hand.  “You, X5-331845739494R, are one of the two people who _could_ speak for your entire race.  I could be talking to _Max_ , but, frankly, she’s not as adorable as you.  And I have a soft spot for Winchesters.  _She_ wouldn’t get twenty years.”

            Alec was still frowning at the fine print.  “Yeah, but that’s a point of contention.  I mean, you offer a human the average of a tenth of his life: ten years.  Unless I have a good reference for our life span as a species, how do I know I’m not getting cheated?”

            Crowley was staring at him with something akin to admiration.  “You would make an _excellent_ crossroads demon.  I’ll tell you what, I’ll have a chat with some of my friends, see what they’re predicting is the average transgenic lifespan.  And while I’m doing that, _you_ take some time, see if salvation for your people is worth the cost of your soul.  Agreed?”

            “I’m reluctant to agree to anything, you might take it as a contract.”

            “See you in a week, then.”  Crowley smirked and vanished, leaving the contract fluttering as the wind threatened to remove it from the hood of the car.

            Alec watched it from the corner of his eye, fighting with himself for even considering it.  He should let the paper vanish off into the wind, or better yet, burn it.  But, with a snarl, he grabbed it off the car, folding it hastily and shoving it in his pocket.  He could save his people, give them the same chances as everyone else in this crazy world, and it would only cost his life.  He wasn’t seeing it as a bad trade, which worried him.  He also knew that Crowley was probably watching him—invisible—looking for signs of weakness.  With a sigh, he forced himself to head back towards camp.

 

***

            “I want extra salt lines set up, Ellen.  Cas says this Crowley is a demon, he shouldn’t have made it into camp to begin with.”  Dean spoke calmly, not looking up from his checklist of things to be done.

            Ellen, who had gone strangely quiet in the days since Alec and the transgenics had left, sighed.  “You got it, Dean.”

            He swore he could feel the sadness dripping off her, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything, even as she walked slowly out of his tent.  He sighed, letting his head fall against the table he used as a desk, and shoving the clipboard out of his way and onto the floor.  There was a thunk, and Dean groaned.  “Sam, did you finish with those salt lines yet?”  he asked, not picking his head up.  His only response was the sound of the tent flap waving in the breeze.  “Sam?”  Dean picked his head up, looking around.  He could have sworn someone came in.  “Ellen?”  He asked, hoping she had doubled back, but still drawing his gun.  There was no answer.

            Dean frowned, standing and releasing the safety.  Taking a deep, calming breath, he willed himself to move as silently as he could, creeping in the direction of the sound.  He made it two steps when Sam burst into the tent.  “Dean! There’s a demon trying to get in camp!”

            The thunk noise came again, but this time Dean was able to identify the direction properly.  He rushed out of the tent with Sam, only to see Ellen and Jo armed with their shotguns keeping the remaining demonborne together, and a demon stalking along the outside of the salt line they had put down.  He was grinning at them, keeping his eyes black.  The kids looked terrified, more than one huddling on the ground.

            “Hey!”  The demon turned to look at him, and Dean shot him in the arm: consecrated rounds still stung like a bitch.  “You want me?  You come after _me_.”

            “Crowley sends his regards.”  The thing taunted, throwing a stained newspaper over the salt line.  “Your brother has been keeping in touch.”

            Dean frowned, but Sam was already yelling the Latin exorcism, and the demon was laughingly forcing itself out of its host.  Sam stopped, realizing it had already escaped.  “Dean, what is that?”  he asked, for Dean had already stepped forward and snatched the newspaper from the ground.  Jo herded the demonborne back to their tents and Ellen crowded over, attempting to get a look at the paper herself.

            There was a news article circled in red sharpie: **New Hate Group Staging Protests on Boarders of Terminal City! Swear the Freaks Won’t Break Curfew Under Their Watch**.  Under the article, in the same red ink, was scrawled: _I wonder what Alec would do to save his people.  I wonder if he takes  after his big brother in any way_. _–Crowley_.

            Dean’s hand clenched around the paper.  He knew the answer, and he wasn’t there to beat sense into his clone.  Castiel was right; when they split up, the enemy knew every weakness, and how to exploit them.


	11. Chapter 11

            He was in trouble.  Oh, he was in deep trouble.  Firstly, Rani and Misha were pointedly not looking at him, and Felix and Biggs were having a very difficult time avoiding each other’s gaze.  Then, there was the oozing _anger_ coming from his tent.  Alec took a deep breath, and then stepped into the tent.

            Keegan was sitting on their mattress with the contract folded neatly beside her.  He swore he could actually _see_ the anger rising off her like heat waves.  “I’m assuming you have a _sense_ or something left over that enables you to know when supernatural objects are around?”  He asked, keeping out of kicking distance; she was pissed.

            She sucked on her teeth before answering, visibly reigning in her anger.  “Yes.  But, to be fair, any human with fey ancestry or magic ability could too.  And it reeks of sulfur.”  She pointed at the contract.  “This sells your soul.”

            “Yeah, I got that.”

            “No, I don’t think you do.”  She stood, visibly shaking with her anger.  “You see, if you _did_ you wouldn’t be doing this.  You’ve seen what _this_ does.”  There were tears in her eyes, and Alec found himself unable to speak.  “He’ll fuck you over.  He’ll fuck _us_ over.  Your bargain is going to go horribly wrong, and you’ll be suffering in Hell.”

            “Wouldn’t I be going there already?  I don’t think I qualify for heaven.”  He snapped.

            The look she gave him got his heckles up, and he attempted to force down the surge of anger it caused.  “Yeah, you don’t.  _None_ of us do.  Maybe our children would, but, honestly, do you think Heaven will honor a deal made by a demon?”

            Alec snarled at the thought.  “Don’t you think _Castiel_ would be the best person to ask?”

            “Gee, maybe _he’s_ who you should talk to about an afterlife for transgenics too!  You’re doing this all by yourself, and you really, _really_ have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

            “Oh, here you go again.  Sam and Dean taught me everything they could about Hunting!  I am _just_ as good as them, if not _better_.  _And_ , I _know_ what I am, which puts me further ahead.” Alec snarled, kicking aside his duffle bag to sit on the chair, since Keegan was blocking the bed.

            Keegan scoffed at him.  “You are a pathetic _infant_ in this world, 494.  And you’re going to make a deal that will affect _every transgenic in existence_.  Do you realize how many ways that could backfire?  Let alone the whole loop hole of you being a _Winchester_ , which apparently means you speak for the human race as well.”  She threw the contract at him, and Alec was surprised to see it floated at eye level, a section glowing—a fine print subsection he hadn’t noticed before.

            “This…this wasn’t there before.”  He stuttered, scanning through the document.  There were more glowing passages, and he was starting to feel panicky.

            “You know jack shit about magic, let alone _soul_ magic.”  Keegan growled, grabbing the contract back.  “The text was always there, but _you_ didn’t know what to look for.  Granted, I doubt Sam and Dean could either, but he couldn’t use this ploy on them.”  She sighed at his expression.  “Sam and Dean, being the original Winchesters, only really count as transgenic in physiology.  They still represent humanity, and whatever else Heaven had intended.  But because _you_ are _cloned_ from them, you inherited part of that destiny.  _You_ are a loop hole; you don’t think of yourself having anything to do with humanity, and yet you can speak for them because of Dean.”

            Alec sat there for a long moment, running what she said through his head.  “You know, this is _just_ another reason to hate our mother fucking government; mess with the wrong DNA donation, and you can loophole demons into taking over the fucking world.”  He rubbed his hands over his face, wishing he could just stop existing.   “I don’t know what to do, Keely.”

            He felt her hand tentatively reach out, resting on his shoulder.  “You know who does.  And don’t give me that look; everything I know about warding and catching demons involves faerie magick, the thing I can’t use anymore.”

            “I have to do _something_.”  His mind flashed back to the news report they had all heard during breakfast, about the hate groups, and how the USA was still reeling over the missile attack and were attempting a counter strike.  Technically, he had already done something—calling his former unit mate Jewel, the original assassin for the Russian job, and giving her explicit instructions to manipulate the current administration’s death due to mental instability.  He had stressed the importance of brokering a peace, and she had understood; Jewel had always been an excellent mediator.  No one suspected mediators.

            Keegan gave his shoulder a squeeze.  “You can call Sam and Dean.”

            “I’ll think about it.”  He knew he was being petulant, but he could handle this.  He _could._

            He hoped.

 

***

            “… Sam, we’re the _last_.  As in Heaven said ‘fuck it’ after dealing with us and threw in the towel.”  Dean wanted to strangle Sam, this wasn’t that hard to understand.  “ Because I drove Alec off, we’re more vulnerable.  And apparently that’s really bad.  Oh, yeah, and we have to look out for _all_ clones with our DNA, because destiny doesn’t discriminate.” Sam stared at him, mouth slightly open.  Dean hung his head.  “The answer is _yes_ , Sam, alright?  I’m gonna go track down Alec and … _apologize_.”  He wanted to choke on the word. Sam was grinning at him.  Dean scowled at him.  “Shut the fuck up.”

            “I didn’t say anything,”  Sam smiled, as Dean’s phone went off.  Dean started to wave him off, but froze when he saw who was on the caller id.  “Heh,” Sam smirked from over Dean’s shoulder.  “Look at that.”

            “Shut up, Sammy.”  Dean growled, pushing him away and flipping open the phone.  “Hey, Alec.  What’s up?”

***

            The sun was warm on his shoulders, the air crisp in the early morning.  Alec loved it.  This was the time of day when everything was just waking, when the heat hadn’t yet kicked in.  He took a deep breath in, stretching his legs straight from the crossed position he had been holding them in, and grabbed his feet, feeling his spine pop and his hamstrings slowly ease into the stretch.  He kept himself calmly aware, focusing on his breathing.  He wasn’t surprised to hear the faint crunch of expensive shoes over the crumbly dirt that surrounded him.  Still, he ignored it, breathing out and reaching beyond his feet.

            “Impressive.”  Alec pretended to give a little jump, but Crowley just laughed.  “Oh, come now.  How long have you known I was here?”  When he didn’t receive an answer, he continued.  “You’re something we’ve never dealt with before.”

            Alec slowly pulled himself to a standing position, popping his shoulders and neck as he did so.  “We know.”

            Crowley grinned.  “See, _our_ problem is we don’t know how _demon_ you and your kind are.  I had my friends take a look at your transgenic life spans, and life spans that long aren’t _natural_. So I did a little digging, found out all of you have a measure of demon blood, thanks to Sam.”  He reappeared by Alec’s shoulder, patting him on it.  “You still get twenty years.  I assume you’ve considered my offer.”

            “Yeah.  About that.”  Alec pulled the contract from his sweatshirt pocket, and let it fall from his fingers.  It floated, centimeters from his hand.

            Crowley look vaguely impressed.  “I see you had your faerie read over the terms.”

            Alec made a face.  “I’m not really keen on the whole selling out the human race thing too. _I’m_ not human, I don’t care what you think.”

            “Well spotted.” Crowley grabbed the contract, wiping his hand across one of the glowing passages.  “And I had to try.”

            “I guess you did.”

            Crowley was watching him, looking suspicious.  “You’re not going to take the deal.”

            Alec shrugged.  “I think we’ll talk to _Castiel_ about any afterlife arrangements.”

            “You _daft_ fool.” The surge of anger rocked Alec back onto his heels, and he looked up at the King of Hell with an increased respect.  “You really think the _angels_ are going to give two _shits_ about you man-made super mutts? “

            “I think they better.”  Alec refused to allow Crowley to cowl him, despite the ever present urge to hiss and scratch at him.

            Crowley stepped up, crowding him.  “And how are you going to manage to convince _them_ of that?” Whatever Crowley had been expecting, it wasn’t for Alec to grin.  “What?”  A second too late, he remembered that their demon blood made them dangerous. Physically dangerous.  Alec had an arm around his throat, forcing him to the ground in a sleeper hold before Crowley could move.  The King of Hell had been in worse predicaments, and had been prepared to simply smoke out—but he was locked in.  There were suspiciously familiar symbols on the matt beneath him. “You…trapped me…”  He gasped, as his meat-suit—and himself—lost consciousness.

            Alec held on for another whole minute before allowing Crowley’s limp form to drop down onto the yoga matt; the yoga matt with a devil’s trap inked on with sharpie.  He grinned.  “Guys!  It worked!”

***

            Crowley knew he was tied up.  It caused a particular sensation in the shoulders and wrists.  He also knew he was sitting in the middle of a devil’s trap.  That sensation was harder to pinpoint, though it was reminiscent of the air feeling _solid_.  But most of all, he knew he was in _big_ trouble.  He knew the Winchesters: Lilith had ordered him to study them, look for every possible weakness and he had.  He had always been good at finding what people would sell their souls for.  Who else would have thought killing Sam would have given them Dean?  That set up had been a particularly complicated job, but he had risen to the occasion.  And he had _learned_.

            “If you’re going to exorcise me, get it over with.  I have a meeting at noon.” He said, opening his eyes.  It was as he had expected: Alec had taken his splinter group and returned to the main clan.  Sitting in front of him were the original Brothers Winchester themselves, both of them glaring at him with that look they reserved for hellspawn.

            “I think you’re going to answer some questions first.”  Dean snarled, standing and flipping that damned Kurd-ish knife in his hand.

            That demon-killing blade was the thing he was least keen on.  “You want to stop The Embodiment of Evil from wiping you lot out. I’m all for that; personally, I think you boys are quite amusing.  And Alec is just _delectable_.” He smirked at Dean’s expression: the goad had been for him, as Alec didn’t seem to care who flirted.

            Dean was now scant feet away, that knife still in hand, and Crowley smiled at him.  Dean lunged forward grasping Crowley’s hand and pressing the blade into it.  It wasn’t enough to remove the arm, but it was enough to bleed like a bitch, and draw a cry of pain from his lips.  Dean smiled grimly.  “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now.”

            “You mean besides upsetting the whole natural order of the universe?”

            “He’s got a point.”  Said the female standing just behind Alec—Crowley could see the glitter of her faerie heritage in her soul.  Of course she would know.  “He’s not just a demon.”

            Her pronouncement was met with a fair amount of derision, but that only made Crowley smile.  “It’s true.  You kill me, Hell becomes leaderless.  True, a new leader would eventually rise, but trust me.  _I’m_ the cuddly one.”

            “Leaderless?”  Sam asked.  “ _You_ lead Hell?”

            The faerie stepped forward, pulling Dean out of striking distance.  Crowley grinned at him.  “Dean, seriously.  That’s the _King_ of Hell.  Not the kind of person we want against us.”

            Dean stared at her, open mouthed.  “Just whose side are you on?”

            “The faerie is on _your_ side, as if that wasn’t painfully obvious.”  He shifted in his bonds, giving his shoulders a little relief.  “They don’t see things in black and white, just a lot of shades of grey.  You were Unseelie, aye?” She glared at him. “See, in general, the unseelie and us demons got on quite well; they _do_ love a good spot of violent mischief.”  He was getting to her, which was getting to Alec, and it was quite amusing to watch the chain of agitation.

            “If you don’t have anything useful to say, why are you speaking?”  Alec growled, and Crowley felt a shiver of fear.  Rather disturbing, that was: he knew the Winchesters could somehow bumble their way through foiling deity’s plans, but he hadn’t feared for his physical form since he became a demon.  Alec changed that, and Crowley didn’t entirely like it.

            “Maybe I have a way to lock it back in its cage.”

            “Maybe a way to kill it would be better.”  Dean countered.

            Crowley rolled his eyes.  “Are you two knuckle-heads just that stupid? You want to _kill_ The _Embodiment of Evil_? Do you even know how stupid that is?” They stared at him.  “Clearly.  Well, maybe Ms. Faerie can explain.”

            “You can’t.” She said, still glaring at him.

            “Can’t?” This time Alec was the questioning one.  “Or it’s near impossible?”

            “ _Can’t_.  It’s in the heart of everything.  That whole ‘balance’ thing.  It goes, the world goes.”  Faerie girl started walking off.

            “See?”  Crowley grinned.  Dean punched him.  Well, he’d give him that freebie.  “I will tell you how to trap the EoE back in the subconscious _if_ you promise me _you_ won’t come after _me_.”

            Dean started to say something, but Sam interrupted.  “Define ‘come after’.”

            Crowley rolled his eyes, this was getting old.  “Stalk. Encroach. Interfere. Plot my demise, come on, it’s really not that hard.”  He straightened himself the best he could in his binds.  “To him I’m just a servant. Cannon fodder. If it manages to exterminate you and yours, I’m next. So. Help me. Huh? Let's all go back to simpler, better times, back to when we could all follow our natures! I'm in _sales_ , damn it. So what do you say? What if I give you this thing, and you go trap it, eh?”  He sold them, he knew he did, but even so, he had to wait for them to realize it.

            He smirked as Dean, grumbling, bent forward and rubbed out part of the  devil’s trap.  With barely a flicker of thought, he was beside the chair, rubbing his abused wrists.  “Thank you.  Now, here’s the ritual.”  He snapped his fingers, and a large tome landed directly in Alec’s arms.  He staggered under the surprising weight.  “I’ve even translated all the necessary bits.” He added with another snap.  “Now, all you need to do is get to Hell.”

            Oh, their sputtering was more than priceless: he half wished he had his phone out to capture the moment.  “Hell?!”  Alec sputtered, looking very pale.

            That kid was _adorable_.  “Ah, yes.  I probably should have mentioned that…but don’t worry.  It’s old hat for Dean-o.  Should be a piece of cake.”  And with that, he snapped his fingers, vanishing with a thought to his favorite office.  He’d be seeing them soon.


	12. Chapter 12

            It was hot.  And (if he was being perfectly honest with himself) he really didn’t want to deal with this shit.  “Your leg is _broken_.  You’re using _crutches_.  How the fuck do you expect to walk through _Hell_?”  If Dean was _really_ honest, this was the universe’s way of telling him to never procreate.  Everything with his DNA was a freaking stubborn, irrational and flat out crazy.  And that was being _kind_.  “You’re not coming, Felix.”

            Said clone was glaring at him, leaning on his cane, which, ok, wasn’t _crutches_.  “You’re seriously going to deprive me of the chance to take some vengeance on the thing that bombed us?”

            “Crowley’s off limits, Felix.”  Alec reminded him, doing a weapons check.

            Felix chuckled darkly.  “Didn’t Jewel radio in?  If that Ivan bastard is dead, he’s in Hell.  And I’m taking a piece of that.  He broke my fucking leg with a _bomb_.  Bombs are _my_ things.  It is _not_ ok.”

            This caused Alec to pause in his check.  “He has a point, Dean.”

            And Dean hit his limit.  “No, he doesn’t.  And none of you get a say in who’s going down there, either!” There it was.  Dean sighed, cursing to himself as he saw Alec’s eyes go hard.  He didn’t need to glance over at Felix to know he was wearing a similar expression.  Clones sucked.  “I can’t have you slowing us down.”  He said, trying to sound more reasonable.

            “And you’re at one hundred percent?”  Felix quipped, gesturing towards Dean’s own leg, which was scarred nicely but still weak.  “You’re going to need everyone you can get.”

            “If you don’t take him, I will.”  Alec warned.  “Even if that means finding an alternate to our yet-determined route.”  He sighed, putting down the P-90 he had been modifying to fire home-made rounds.  “I can’t do this anymore, Dean.”

            “That’s my cue to vamoose.”  Felix said, limping off towards the armory with surprising haste.

            Dean forced himself to remain calm.  “Do _what_?”

            Alec glared.  “ _This_.  Fighting with you.”  He looked away, hanging his head.  “Dean, I’m not what you want me to be, and you’re not what you think you are.”

            He worked the words through his head, before raising an eyebrow.  “Is this some sort of Riddle?  I’m not fucking Gollum, man.”

            “You are so _thick_ sometimes I can’t believe you’re genetically empowered.” Alec kicked at the ground, sending a rock flying.  The noise caught the attention of several demonborne working with Ellen on the far side of camp, but it was dismissed just as quickly.  “I can’t play nice with the demonborne, not all of them, anyway.  I can’t even play nice with a lot of transgenics—the whole alpha thing steps on a lot of toes.  Which is another point, you have no idea what rank you actually _hold_.  You’re used to speaking for all of humanity and, really, go you for that.  But now you’re _not human_ , and you’re in charge of a whole different race, besides them!”  Alec paused, looking lost for words.  “Crowley may have laid it out best: there are only two people who could speak for the transgenic race,  Max and _me_.  No matter what you physically _are_ , you and Sam will always be fundamentally _human_.  But _I’m not_.  I _can’t_.”  He met Dean’s eyes, unflinching.  “And one of these days I’m gonna end up killing you.”

            Dean sighed; he had guessed it might come to this.  “Yeah, and maybe I haven’t been recognizing it either.”  He met Alec’s eyes, “But you’re not going to kill me.”  He held up a hand, stopping Alec’s protest.  “Alec, you chose to follow me, and that’s partly my fault.  I’m big on family, on blood.  And you are too, else you wouldn’t be here.” He sighed again.  “You will always hold back.  But the point remains you shouldn’t _have_ to.  We get through this, and you can take off where ever you and your pack needs to go.  I swear I won’t get on your case, even though I still don’t like you going off on your own.  You’re my _brother_ ,” he cleared his throat around the crack his voice made, “and I know you can handle yourself.  Just, you know, don’t get yourself killed.”  Oh, he had sucked.  It was like his brain sent a broken transmission to his mouth.  And yet, Alec was staring at him, head cocked to the side, and  it was almost as if he _knew_.  “Ok, stop it.  That’s creepy.”  Alec did, shaking his head and looking oddly confused.

            “I’m gonna go finish up with the weapons,” He said, finally, looking completely disoriented. Dean knew how he felt.

            “Yeah, go.”  He agreed, watching Alec walk off.

            “I do not think that went as you planned.”

            “Holy fucking shit!”  Dean grabbed at his heart, which was pounding painfully in his chest.  “Cas!  Don’t do that!”

            He could have sworn Castiel rolled his eyes.  He shook his head, breathing deep, convinced he was seeing things.  “Dean, are you prepared?”

            “That’s what we’re doing.”

            “You need to work faster.”  Castiel reached out, touching his forehead, and Dean felt as if his brain was being scrubbed—and then Castiel was stepping back, frowning.  “You can’t bring Ellen and Jo, they will not make the trip.  I will see to Felix to make sure he is, as you say, one hundred percent.  Your leg should no longer pain you either.”  He ignored Dean’s shout of surprise, and continued, “You should dissuade Biggs from joining you as well, though I doubt it will work.  It would be nice to spare him the horrors of what’s to come.”

            It took Dean a minute to respond.  “Well, thanks, Cas.  That was…motivating.”

            “I’m serious, Dean.”  The bite to Castiel’s tone was surprising enough to make Dean pause.  “This is _Hell_.  All the human weapons in the world cannot prepare you for where we are headed.  You should remember how mangled your soul became.”

            “Again, _motivating_.”  Dean snapped.  “It’s not like we have a choice, right?  This thing came in to our camp and decided to _hunt_ us.  I’m _tired_ of things hunting us.”

            Castiel looked at him, really _looked_ at him, and seemed to come to some sort of decision.  “Have them ready in one hour.”  And he was gone.  Looks like it was on.

***

            “Well, this is new.”  Dean had been expecting to open his eyes in a whirl of heat, and blood and sulfur.  “Cas, I think you’ve got the wrong ‘hell’.”  From beside him, Castiel ignored him, and walked briskly past the countless people standing in line in the blank, sterile hall that was apparently Hell.  Dean shrugged, and nodded, gesturing for Sam to go on a head.  “Felix, Biggs, make sure Keegan doesn’t do anything stupid.  And by Keegan, I mean…”

            “Gotcha, boss.”  Felix grinned, stepping up next to Alec.

            “No, really, make sure Keegan doesn’t do anything stupid.”  Alec added, with a glare.  “And, honestly, it’s going to be Biggs babysitting the two of them.”

            “I knew I only got to come for babysitting duty.”  Biggs groaned, only to be smacked by Keegan.

            “Come on!”  Sam yelled back to them, somehow silent and invisible to the poor souls standing next to them.

            Shaking his head, Dean gave them a little shove, getting the remaining group moving.  It was too large, but he had been out voted and bitched out every time he had tried to make cuts.  “Keep moving guys.”

            “What are we looking for?”  Keegan asked from the middle of the group.  “This…isn’t what I was expecting.”

            “D’ya like it?”  The entire group was thrown into chaos as the very walls around them spun and shifted.  When it stopped, they were standing in a lavish office, decorated tastefully with gold trim and scarlet furnishings.  And, leaning against the polished oak desk was Crowley, holding a bottle of glencraig scotch whiskey in one hand, and a glass in the other.  “I did a little redecorating after taking over.”  He poured himself a generous measure, taking a sip and setting the bottle down before surveying the group in front of him.  “And, Castiel, you could have just asked.  As if I’d deny any of you a visit.”

            “Where is this cavern, Crowley?” Castiel demanded, pointing at the large book Crowley had left with Alec last they had met.  “Your ‘redecorating’ has ensured no map of Hell is accurate.”

            “True.” Crowley smiled.  “Now, I can get you there…no guarantees about getting you back out—you understand, can’t insure against death.  But, it will cost you.”

            Dean was ready to launch himself at the demon, but  found himself pushed backwards by, “Biggs! What the fuck are you doing?”

            “Where do I sign?”  Biggs demanded, shoving Sam’s hand off him as well. 

            “You are _not_ selling your soul to this bastard.”  Dean snarled, grabbing Biggs by the jacket and pulling him backwards.  “You are _not_ worth a map.”

            “Oh, it’s not for a map.  It’s for _me_ : a personal guide through Hells nastiest levels, and all the protection that may or may not bring.”  He smiled.  “And trust me, you’ll need me.”

            “ _You_ are not worth Biggs’ soul.” Dean reiterated, “And _I_ know my way around the deeper levels.” He didn’t mean for his voice to go so dark, or for his tone to grow so menacing, but wouldn’t you know, it _worked_.

            Crowley was looking at him with a new-found respect that may have just granted them the edge.  “Well, maybe I’ll toss this one in.”  He finished his scotch and smacked his lips appreciatively.  “But after this, I’m done.  You lot are on your own getting back out.  Assuming you manage to cage the Embodiment of Evil, that is.”  There was a veiled threat to his words, but Dean had expected that.  If they didn’t cage this thing, they’d be dead anyway.  It was a risk they were going to have to take.

***

            It had taken a snap of Crowley’s fingers to move them from the ‘comfy’ part of Hell to the true hell-fire and damnation levels.  Biggs hadn’t been expecting the hot, moist air to hit him as hard as it did, or the flames to bite at his skin, despite the fact they were only close enough to give off the barest light.  Every few seconds, a splattering of warm rain would fall, but Biggs knew it couldn’t be that innocent.

            Felix was scratching at his head, and he pulled something from his hair.  Biggs felt his stomach turn as he realized what the rope-like object his unit-mate was holding was.  “So…souls are corporeal here.”  Felix stated, examining the piece of intestine with mild interest before tossing it aside.  “That’s a little disturbing.”

            “What’s disturbing,” Crowley called to them from the head of the group, “is that the problem with the old place was most of the inmates were masochists already. A lot of ‘thank you sire, can I have another hot poker up the jacksy?’.  We had to start weeding them out.  This ring is mostly child molesters and killers.”  It took Crowley a moment to realize pretty much every one else had stopped, and were staring at him in disbelief.  “What? I personally _loath_ pedophiles.  Feasting on baby blood and destroying the innocent child-souls are two drastically different things.  We _do_ have _rules_. ”

            “A demon with morals,” Dean commented, looking mildly impressed, “I’m surprised this place isn’t freezing over.” 

            “Actually, look at prisons.”  Alec said, “I think it’s safe to say _everyone_ hates pedophiles.” Crowley chuckled, gesturing for the group to continue on.

            All around them, screams of pain and terror echoed off the walls, and Biggs was damn sure the fine mist hitting them was blood.  He missed war, he really, really did.  At least there he _knew_ what to expect.  But here, damn, if he looked sideways at the wrong moment, he saw a cornucopia of horror, torture and dissection that threatened to blacken his vision.  The worst was seeing the souls in the midst of metamorphosis; the human beings who were being corrupted into the vile creatures who he honestly liked better when they were giant smoke-snakes.  Vaguely, he wondered why Crowley looked like a normal human, but he didn’t dwell—it was a small blessing.  The demons manning the racks around here were too vile to describe, watching their progress with shiny, bright, black eyes.

            “Is that a dog?” Felix asked, after what seemed like several hours of walking through this bloody dungeon.  It took Biggs a moment to spot the large, shaggy black dog amidst the flickering shadows, but once he did, he was surprised he had missed it.

            “Do dogs go to Hell?” Alec asked Crowley, peering at the creature with interest. Dean was continuing to walk, even though the party had once again stopping.  It seemed as if he wanted to put as much distance between him and it as he could.  Biggs knew that wasn’t good; Felix was going to be doubly curious now…not that Biggs himself wasn’t.

            “That,” Crowley said, laughing at Dean’s reaction, “is a Hell hound.  They only respond to demons, though, so I’d watch your…huh.” The huh was completely warranted, as the said Hell hound was on its back, wagging it’s long tail, getting scratched on the stomach by Felix.  “Now, _that’s_ interesting.  Are you sure I can’t get at least _one_ of you transgenics to sell your soul?  The Hounds have never taken to a _living_ soul like that.”

            Felix continued his belly rubs, but looked up at Crowley with a perfect puppy face.  “Can I have him?”

            Watching a demon struggle with the desire to satisfy a child-like request was possibly the greatest universal irony witnessed by anyone in the history of ever.  “Eh, well…”  And then reality.  “No!”

            It took several minutes to pry Felix away from the Hound, and another several in which they were unsure if they were going to have to fend off a Hell hound (though Biggs doubted Felix would let any of them touch it; his unit mate was a bit weird about animals).  Ultimately, though, Felix came along.  Biggs could have sworn that the Hound followed, too. 

            After what seemed like many hours passed, they came to a door.  It was odd, because it looked practically _normal_ , despite it being painted in the blood of countless souls. And it whispered.  “I wouldn’t go any closer.” Castiel’s words broke him out of his daze, and Biggs realized he was millimeters from touching said door.  “You are not prepared for what is hiding beyond.”

            The rest of the group had spread out in the small clearing (for lack of a better term), and were unpacking their gear.  And still, the voice whispered to him…

            “Ok, someone keep Darklighter away from the pulsing door.” Felix said, picking him up by the scruff of the neck and forcibly pulling the smaller transgenic away.  “He’s quite drawn to it.  Like a bug zapper.”

            Biggs, however, heard none of it: that voice was whispering…

            “Keep him away, you fools!” Crowley hissed, when Biggs made yet another attempt to get to the door.  “Evil knows you’re here, and it’s found a meat-suit.”  He pinned Biggs to the wall, though it was practically gentle.  “You’re going to need to hurry this along.”

            The actual set up of the ritual went quick, with Keegan, Castiel and Crowley using their various expertise to get things done.  Dean would have loved to make a joke, but Biggs was struggling violently, now, and it worried him.  “Just tell me when.”  He said, as Castiel pushed passed him with a lit candle now carved with enochian sigils.

            Crowley was the one who answered.  “When we open the door. Speaking of, you better be ready.”

            Dean was just about to ask _how_ they would open the door when Crowley snapped his fingers, releasing the struggling Biggs. No one had time to blink—Biggs practically burst _through_ the door—

            And a massive shockwave knocked them all off their feet.  “Ah, this is my cue to leave.”  Crowley vanished, leaving behind only a wisp of smoke that had been part of his jacket, at least until Felix had latched on.

            “The guy’s more slippery than an eel.” Felix grumbled, forcing himself to his feet.  “I take it we hold him off while you two finish?”

            Dean started to answer, but Alec was pushing past him, gesturing for Keegan to assist.  Biggs had vanished into the black maw that was the doorway, and now Alec, Felix and Keegan too.  Castiel was still struggling to his feet, one of his wings (which had become visible) blown backwards, obviously broken.  “Hurry!”  He called, also heading into the blackness.

                And wasn’t this always the way?  He glanced to his right, watching Sam pour the last of the Sand from the Tomb of Saint Peter, using one of his big hands to block the fiery wind that whipped through this level of Hell.  Hell fire raged around them, and, in the dark maw of the doorway in front of him, he could hear the sounds of fighting, the sounds of people getting _hurt_. Beside him, Sam yelled that they were ready.

            Enochian wasn’t his strongest suit, but _Geronimo_!


	13. Chapter 13

TWO MONTHS LATER:

            There was an overall sadness in the camp, one that Dean wasn’t sure would ever dissipate.  It had started months ago, and overwhelmed them when they returned from Hell, carrying Biggs’ broken body and too many wounds to heal.  Ellen had organized a funeral, getting the demonborne and transgenics to set up the funeral pyre, and eventually laying both Biggs and Tanya’s picture upon it.  The rest of the clan had added their own memories, dedications to those lost, and it had culminated with a catharsis Dean had hoped would leave them cleansed.

            But Alec and his pack had taken off a day or two after that, needing space and a place to be themselves.  Dean had tried to keep track of their movements, even contacting Max back in Terminal City to see if they had swung by.  Every week without news had driven the spike of despair deeper into his heart.

            The rest of the Clan began to return to normal, working with a new kin-ship that seemed to spawn from the near death of the missile attacks.  They had come together, abandoning most of the larger carnival items, and started moving around again.  Slowly, life was returning to normal.

            “Dean!”  Sam was yelling, “Dean! Get over here!”

            Sighing, Dean wiped his grease stained hands on his pants and brushed his hair back from his face.  “Sam, Baby _needs_ her tune up.  I’ve put this off _way_ too lon…” He trailed off, his eyes taking in the sight before him: there were several new campers parked at the entrance of the fallowing field Sam had rented from a farmer.  And, leaning against those campers were several _very_ familiar faces.

            “Hey, dad.” Alec said from the front of the group, giving a little, awkward wave.  “I, uh, brought supplies.”

            Dean stared at him for a moment, shock clouding his brain.  Then: “ _Anata wa tashika ni anata no jikan o yōshita. Sore wa geitaidenwa o hirou tame ni anata o korosudeshou ka_?”

            The entire camp came to a complete and absolute stop.

            The look on Alec’s face was fucking _priceless_.  “ _Toki wa jigokude wa, nihongo o hanaseru yō ni shimashita ka_?” He demanded, stepping closer to Dean.

            And this time, Dean smiled.  “I got bored.”

            Alec stared at him.  “Yeah…”

            He doubted anyone could explain exactly what happened, but the next minute, he was hugging and being hugged, and it seemed like the entire camp had come out to welcome their brothers home.  It went on for some time, until another voice broke through their happy bubble.  “Hello, boys.”  The cockney accent broke apart the love-fest, raising the heckles on the transgenics and giving the demonborne gooseflesh.  The camp scattered, everyone taking up defensive positions.  And Crowley, for his part, just stood there, hands raised in a gesture of surrender.  “Hey, I come in peace.”

            Dean had given up being angry with Crowley: he was a demon first and foremost, and the fact he helped as much as he did said something, and Dean wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know what.  “Someone re-do the salt lines, and triple check the devil’s traps!”  He called, watching the instant reaction, and then turning his attention back to the King of Hell.  “I’d love to know how you got passed our wards.”

            “Well, that’s easy.”  Crowley let his hand drop, but it was resting at hip height.  “ _He_ brought me.”  The pronouncement was followed with a kind of aching whine, and Dean was just able to make out the Hell hound’s outline in the bright sunlight.  And only now did Crowley look awkward.  “Felix, I have a…favor, to ask. Take him, take him _please_.” The Hell hound gave a pitiful bark.  “It’s been moping around for weeks. It’s bringing the whole pack down.  It’s bringing _me_ down.  I need to be rid of it, and I can’t kill it.  Physically can’t, as in not actually having the ability to end its life. So please, for the love of all that is evil, just take it.”

            Felix had already holstered his gun, kneeling with his arms out.  The Hell hound didn’t wait, and bounded over, knocking him onto his back and apparently licking his face.

            And, before anything else could be said, Crowley was gone.

            Dean looked over at Alec, who held his hands up.  “ _You_ try to pry those to apart.  The thing found its way around your _wards_.”

            “He is not a _thing_!”  Felix yelled from the ground.

            Dean rolled his eyes, before clasping his brother’s shoulder, grinning when he realized Sam was on his other side.  “You sticking around?”

            “For a bit.”  Alec admitted, running a hand through his shoulder-length hair.  “May take off after some Hunts, but for the mean-time we’re chilling.  Feels… _weird_ not being with the rest of the Winchesters.”  He couldn’t hide his smile as he said their surname, and Dean felt himself grin as well.

            “Felt weird without you.”  Sam said, beating him to the punch.  The moose’s eyes were misting too.

            He snorted.  “Aw, we’re having a chick flick moment.”

            “Let’s not have many more, kay?”  Alec dodged out from between the two of them, grinning cheekily.  “We’re getting a bad reputation here.” He gave them a two fingered salute before jogging off, catching up with Keegan, who was helping Felix attempt to put a collar on the Hell hound.

            Dean shook his head, chuckling.  “You knew he was coming back.”

            Beside him, Sam grinned.  “Yeah.”  He turned to Dean, “So, we better allocate these before people start claiming them.  The lease is up tomorrow, we staying?”

            It took him a long moment to answer.  There was something on the wind, and this was a whole new world.  Yes, an even more war-torn and desolate one than before, but there were these bright spots, spots that looked remarkably like his family, his clan.  And maybe that was adventure he could scent on the wind, because he had the urge to go, to move, to _Hunt_.  “Wasn’t there a chupachabra siting out in Texas?”

            And so it went.  Because the Battle is never really over, and the War is never really won.  There would always be _something_ out there, be paranormal, preternatural, or just plain weird.  And there would always be Winchesters to stop it.

 

**End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary  
> Kachiku -- livestock. (Japanese)
> 
> Kachiku ashimoto ni ki o tsukete.-- Watch your step, livestock. (Japanese)
> 
> Ire futuis matrem vestram.—Go fuck your mother. (Latin)
> 
> Anata wa tashika ni anata no jikan o yōshita. Sore wa geitaidenwa o hirou tame ni anata o korosudeshou ka? –You sure took your time. Would it kill you to pick up a phone? (Japanese)
> 
> Toki wa jigokude wa, nihongo o hanaseru yō ni shimashita ka? -- When in hell did you learn to speak Japanese? (Japanese).


End file.
